


Of home and friendship

by wanderingsmith



Series: Sam and her boys [11]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-08
Updated: 2009-08-25
Packaged: 2021-01-16 21:02:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21277679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/pseuds/wanderingsmith
Summary: Just come home





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I play with 'em.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be altered at some future date, should its past change.. (eg) but I'll warn ya when that happens

Focused on the acres of long-winded garbage out of which he was trying to fish the one pertinent phrase, Jack was sub-consciously aware that Siler had come home, and even tilted his head up in automatic, vague welcome when he felt the sergeant walk by his chair.

It wasn't until Si's glasses clinked with his that Jack really focused on the present, though, resettling the frames on his nose and ears and blinking at the man grumbling tiredly in apology as he straightened. Watching the slow, stiff, fumbling movements of Siler's hands, Jack shook his head, exasperated, "Siler.." He reached up and took the skewed glasses carefully off his friend's nose, batting away the sergeant's own hands to fold and tuck away the lenses.

"Thanks." Siler's fingers stroked his lover's shoulder before he continued on his shambly way to the sink.

Narrowing his eyes and getting up as his -*again*- exhausted housemate sucked back a glass of water, Jack walked up and laid careful hands on his shoulder joints, rubbing very gently, mostly just conveying heat into the still-healing bruises he knew were under the dirty jumpsuit.

Leaning his head against the back of Siler's, he breathed in quietly, realizing for the first time that he 'recognized' him, now, at the back of his mind. That this simple closeness was enough to make tension that he hadn't even noticed ease out of his body -damned bureaucratic word-playing when he was supposed to be retired-. "Sam still working?"

The reply was slow in coming as the sergeant sighed, relaxing into the touch with a faint moan of relief at the offered comfort, "..Yeah, think so. Heard something about unexpected visitors."

Nodding to himself, Jack added conversationally, "Siler, I know you're used to being alone. Wearing yourself out every day, passing out and doing it all over again. Trust me, been there." He shifted back and lifted his hands long enough for Siler to turn around, then laid them back down, all too familiar with aching joints, never mind a beat-up body.

Ignoring Siler's automatic defencive frown, he leaned forward, distracted by the shine of water left on his lips. Neither lecture nor frown took away from the tenderness in the slow kiss he started, determined to replace the hello he'd gotten used to receiving and that was routed by their glasses. Lips parted and touching lightly, shifting to touch again; soft and gentle beyond anything anyone but Sam would have expected of either of them.

Finally pulling back, Jack shivered at the puff of air that brushed his now-damp lips and stubble-burned cheek when Si' sighed, leaning back on the counter. He looked the tired man in the eye, continuing his speech gently, "But you have a life now; you have a family. You don't have to push yourself to the breaking point to avoid the silence; just come home."

Siler watched him quietly, held in place by the softness in Jack's usually-protected eyes. Until they'd started.. spending time together, he wouldn't have thought his old commander would ever open up like this to anyone. Though seeing how much even the *thought* of Sam affected him had been less surprising than it could have been if he didn't have the personal knowledge of the effect Sam could have on a man. But that wasn't the same as acknowledging that same look directed at *him*.

A life. A **family**.

Partners.

No, he'd never had that. And he'd never really stopped to think about how hard he worked. He didn't consciously set out to wear himself out... did he?

Back when he'd joined, he'd just been glad to find a place where he felt like he belonged, a job that he felt satisfaction from and was good at. And the years since he'd been assigned to the SGC had had a tendency to be necessarily hectic; there was no question of working his ass off when lives or the planet or the galaxy were at stake.

But he supposed he *could* take it a little more easily when all he had to do was routine maintenance; could delegate some of the more pain-inducing jobs to those younger and more able to recover. The general was right: he'd never had any reason to want to have energy left when he got home, never cared if he simply fell into bed, sore and tired.

He lifted his hands slowly, glad Jack didn't move his palms away from his aching shoulders. Cupping the general's jaw, he essayed a smile, aware that he really *was* exhausted, and that it showed. "I'll.. try to remember that."

The quirk of Jack's grin under his fingers made resisting the temptation to glide his thumb over his lips impossible; which made the man's response a little smeary-sounding.

"Good. And we're well aware it takes a while to break the habit. Hell, I still have to remind Sam, every so often."

Chuckling in agreement, Siler pulled until he could return that kiss with a more exploratory one, tongue sliding between handily parted lips, smiling a little as he felt Jack's glasses brush his cheek, hearing in his mind the grumble he'd make before he pulled them off in disgust and cleaned them, glaring at the silver-rimmed proofs of age's effect.

When he finally raised his head, Siler's eyes met Sam's over Jack's shoulder and he smiled, lifting a hand from Jack to reach out to her.

Sam grinned softly, stepping forward as Jack turned his head toward her, "You boys like the kitchen, don't you?"

Siler snorted, straightening to pull her between him and Jack for a hug, "*You* like the kitchen too, Sam."

Jack's quick laugh of agreement was a little muffled by Sam's hair as he copped a snuggle, and Siler closed his eyes in contentment, wrapped around them both. Partners; who'd have thought he could manage *that*...

####

Idly wondering when Jack was going to get home from his supposedly *quick* Saturday phone conference with the Pentagon and thinking ironically about a lecture on overworking that *he'd* gotten just a few days ago, Siler fished through the mess of DVDs, starting to frown as he reached the last of them and calling out to the woman working at her laptop in the kitchen, "Hey Sam?"

"Ummm?"

"Where do you guys keep your Simpsons DVDs?" There was, after all, no way Jack could *not* have them.. was there??

"Errr, not sure," the vague, attention-less tone made him smile as he waited for more info, "Jack takes care of the DVDs."

Right. Siler stared ironically at the chaos he'd just filtered through, "..Well do you know if you have any?"

"Of course he does. Think I even helped him buy them. Though I have to admit, it's been a while since I've seen them. Actually.. yeah, was definitely before Jack moved back..."

####

Jack stopped whistling when he walked in the door, brightening as he listened, "Hey! I haven't seen that episode in ages!" Hurrying to toe off his runners and haphazardly throwing his raincoat toward the hooks, he quick-stepped over and dropped besides Siler on the couch.

He didn't notice how quiet the sergeant was until the lack of commercials registered and he gave him a grin, "One of... Yours?" His voice slowed and he started to frown at the tension in Si's posture, "Siler?"

The Simpsons suddenly went quiet and Siler turned uncomprehending eyes on him, speaking huskily, "They were yours, weren't they?"

Jack frowned worriedly, wondering what the hell he'd done *now*. "What was?"

"The discs."

Jack stared at his almost accusing eyes and tried to think of any disc of his that.. What?? "Siler, I *know* you can use full sentences. Just give it to me straight, will you?"

"You gave me *your* disks. Your *Simpsons* discs."

Ah. Busted. Jack grimaced, letting himself fall back in the corner of the couch, staring at Siler and trying to read his all too frozen expression. He wasn't sure what he was in trouble for, but obviously he *was*, and he'd learned it was safer to stay quiet until he knew what the accusation was. Guessing only seemed to bring about *more* accusations...

"Why?"

He shrugged, still watching his friend carefully. No. Not accusation. Only Silerese relationship confusion; OK, he could deal with this... He cleared his throat, taking a minute to actually think about his answer and glad that Siler was, among many other things, patient. "Siler- do you have any idea of much I hated being stuck in that job? That city?" The nod and attentive need to know in Siler's eyes encouraged him to keep talking better than Daniel's prodding ever could, "On top of that, for Sam to be out of even Stargate-reach on one of the extremely rare occasions when I *wanted* to go to the movies.." he shook his head, remembering those days, "I was *pissed*. The couple of weeks before you showed up were hellish; every damned person around me was bent on driving me crazy and I knew damned well there was no way I'd get an evening to myself."

When Siler seemed to relax a bit, Jack closed his eyes, laying his head back on the couch, sighing and shaking his head, "I'm surprised I didn't have a heart attack; or kill someone." Still with his eyes closed, he smiled slowly, "When the first of your minions appeared, I damn near handcuffed him to that damned car. *Good* coffee waiting for me? And blue jell-o??" he laughed, remembering just how absolutely shocked and delighted he'd been, "I didn't even care that it meant someone knew about me and Sam; it just cheered me right up."

Opening his eyes, still grinning, he looked at Siler, humour softening to affection, "I don't know how many favours you had to call in, but you saved my life, Si'. Not to mention that of every person I had to deal with. And then.. well hell, I actually had *fun* instead of spending the night glumly missing Sam," and wasn't *that* something to think about in view of their new life? "I just.. wanted to show my appreciation. Wasn't as though I got to watch those discs anyway."

"Sam asked me to do it."

Jack smiled at the quiet, uncomfortable words, shaking his head, "I know. Figured it back then. But I seriously doubt she asked you to make my life easier; I bet she just asked you to lay covering fire while I got to the theatre." He waited for the reluctant nod of acknowledgement, "Right. I owed you, Siler. Hell, everybody owes you for all the times you helped save the day, one way or another. Pass on a few DVDs? No hesitation involved."

"..OK."

Watching Si's body slowly relax, Jack frowned, curious now that the danger seemed past. "Why the hell'd you freak out, Si'?" This was, after all, about as far from emotional *anything*...

The sergeant shrugged, impassive mask in place, "..If you'd done that today, I wouldn't have blinked; would have teased you for being a romantic. Couldn't.. figure out why you'd have done it back then."

Jack laughed softly, refusing to *touch* the first statement -*who* brought flowers home first??-, "Now who's having problems with a man in his life?"

He took a reassured breath when Siler smiled shyly at the point before snarking quietly, "You weren't in my life."

Jack grinned, teasing, "No. I wasn't. But the idea that I might have considered you in mine threw you for a loop."

Si's humour faded into a slightly defencive shrug, "..Being crap at relationships does *not* mean I care to hurt people by not noticing how they feel. You *know* that."

Jack straightened, reaching over with an arm around Si's neck to drag him closer with minimal -it *was too* minimal- roughhousing, awkwardly laying back after a hesitation so Si' could lay on him. It was an odd thought to realize his too-competent friend needed the reassurance as much as Jack often did; so much easier to remember that Sam needed him. But that was just the damned cultural indoctrination again, wasn't it?

They slowly settled into each other and Jack was just relaxing when Siler spoke again.

"Brought some of my discs over."

He followed Siler's casually waved arm toward the shelves, seeing the rest of the cartoon series; torn between frowning at the implied 'returned gift' and cheering at even the *possibility* that the sergeant was finally accepting their home as his. Then he saw several unmarked, home-made discs next to them and his eyes widened, "Are those-"

"Yeah."

Grinning and belatedly looking around for Sam, Jack mentioned idly, "Better keep those in the bedroom; between the boys and Cassie, it's probably not a good idea to leave them out."

He nuzzled the neat hair under his chin as Si's laughed softly, putting the show back on and relaxing into Jack's hold comfortably, his feet hanging off the end of the couch. "Sam's upstairs having a bath, Jack. She needed some time to think. The new transporters aren't interfacing with-"

"Ah ahah!" Jack shook his head wryly as Siler snickered; yeah, he'd known he was going to be outnumbered, hadn't he? "Does she know what you brought over?"

"..No. We were each distracted when I came back."

Jack tried to focus on the Simpsons but his eyes kept drifting to those special DVDs, wondering what was on them and aware that a part of his anatomy was stiffening even before Si' chuckled, stroking a hand own the side of Jack's thigh. "Distracted, general?"

Huffing a self-deprecating snort, Jack didn't bother answering, sliding a hand inside the neck of Si's shirt and then settling back. Sam would come down sooner or later; in the meantime, he had episodes he hadn't seen in ages and the warm skin of his lover under his palm.

When the ep ended and Sam still hadn't come down though, Jack got restless, shifting and looking up the stairs, wondering if she was done 'thinking'.

"Trying to tell me something, Jack?"

"Just wondering if Sam went to bed..."

"..We *could* go check. Wouldn't want her to have gotten hurt..."

Jack grinned as Siler clambered up, "Love the way you think, Si'." He pretended to ignore the sergeant's slight stiffening at the innocent expression; he needed to get used to it sooner or later.

####

The warm water had thoroughly relaxed her and Sam had come up with a couple of ideas to try out before the Phoenix left port in a few days. In the meantime, she'd decided to take advantage of her tub while she could; shipboard showers were.. scarce, to put it mildly. She also had a feeling the boys had some hashing out to do.

It would be funny to watch the two of them slowly 'getting to know each other', considering that Jack had avoided most of that with her. Except that she cared about them and couldn't enjoy knowing they were hurting. 

At least up to now they'd managed to get through the rough patches speedily. Conversely, she was *trying* not to feel jealous, remembering her own all-too-long rough times with Jack over the many years.

And however much she loved Jack and the life they'd settled into, they *still* tended to get into arguments... Watching him and Siler be so easy with each other, especially when she knew she'd have to leave them *both*... made a kernel of shameful envy grate at her nerves. It made *no* sense; she and Jack were as close as ever, she and *Siler* were closer than she'd ever thought she could be to the quiet, self-controlled sergeant. There was nothing for her to envy except the uncertainty and dramatic highs and lows of a new relationship. Wasn't established affection with hot sex better?

Dropping her head below the water and holding herself in the resulting utterly isolating, peaceful, dead silence, Sam called herself a fool ten times over for being ungrateful. No one in their right mind *wanted* trouble. And not even military adrenaline junkies asked for troubled relationships.

Maybe she could blame this stupidity on the time of the month.

She should get out of this no-longer-helpful bath, go downstairs, seduce her men and spend the rest of the night having crazy monkey sex. No one could be anything but ecstatically thankful with those two bent on making you happy.

Raising her head out of the water and taking a deep breath, Sam started to smile, remembering- She blinked as she suddenly focused on her surroundings and came face to face with the very expressions she'd just been daydreaming of.

Crouched besides her tub side by side, her lovers quite obviously had 'ideas' that rivalled hers. And likely had been staring at her naked self through the clear water.

Not that she minded. Sam grinned, forgetting the gloomy thoughts in favour of the zip of arousal and lounging back, deliberately rippling her body and thoroughly satisfied with the matching eye-zooms away from her face. Idly stroking her fingers over her breasts, hearing Siler's breath catch, she teased, "Yes? Are you boys going to stay there all night or are you going to join me?" When they stayed unmoving for another second, she bent one knee up and slid one hand down, teasingly slowly.

The only warning she had of the coming change was the raised-browed glance they shared; and then they reached under her and she found herself carried between their grinning selves toward the bed. Laughing, she didn't try to get free; how could she feel envy when they both made it so plain they wanted her?? "Which of you is sleeping the body-sized wet spot you're about to make in our bed?"

Watching Jack's expression as they stopped and he looked over her head at Siler, she laughed even harder. Even if they were getting away with acting like Neanderthals; she was just waiting to hear them grunt rock/paper/scissor at each other in Morse.

"King size..." she felt Siler's accompanying shrug as a ripple, his hold under her shoulders making her feel eerily as though she were 5 and getting birthday lifts.

And the man who negotiated intergalactic treaties did indeed *grunt* in response.


	2. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this comes AFTER draco_somnians's [It's all in the training (NC17): Sam, Jack, Siler...and handcuffs.](http://draco_somnians.livejournal.com/82112.html)
> 
> Jack getting his groove back

"S-so going.. to beat.. the crap out of you."

"That's beat the crap out of you *sir*, recruit. And you'll have to get in shape before you can manage it." Siler tried not to smirk too widely at the man puffing along besides him. He was *trying* to keep the pace at something that Jack would accept as 'real', but without pushing him too hard on his first day, but that was a tough line to thread. "Come on son, is that the best threat you can come up with? Talking is part of the exercise, you know. The miles are going to get mighty boring with just puffing to listen to."

"Thought.. had to.. sing."

Siler snorted, "Sorry, I've heard you sing. Rather you talk."

"Kill you.. *painfully*."

Siler slowed a little as he saw Jack start to stumble over his own feet, jaw clenching at how red he was; he was going to have to slow them down soon if the man didn't cry uncle and smarten up, "Come on *general*, lift the feet. You're lucky I'm not commenting on your form."

"Ha!.. You.. drool over.. my *form*... sergeant."

"*Drill*-sergeant, recruit. Get it right."

"That's it." Jack stopped, his heart feeling like it was going to blow out of his ears, bending to rest his hands on his thighs and just pant, his muscles desperate for oxygen. He was already too flushed from the workout to feel the blush at having let himself get so damned out of condition.

"Walk around, Jack, you know suddenly stopping's not good."

He grimaced at the soft tone, hating the need to be babied but unable to deny it as he grunted himself -already stiff, damn it!- upright and walked as ordered.

"And talk."

"How many swearwords do you know?"

Siler grinned at the barely-breathless threat, "A lot. Come on, you've got your breath back, let's jog a bit."

"Can't believe you.. made me go.. to Doc Lam."

Rolling his eyes at the oft-repeated whine and insulted tone, Siler replied blandly, "Yeah, I'm going to put a retired 60-"

"59!!"

Snorting, he ignored the bark, "60 year-old in training without making sure he was up to it? Come on Jack."

He kept the pace low, glad the out-of-shape general wasn't fussing about it, now. A hell of a lot healthier to keep it at a point where he wasn't pushing himself so much.

"Why am I letting you.. do this to me?"

Siler laughed, head thrown back in the bright early morning sunshine, feeling good at the park's fresh air. They'd needed to get out more anyway. "Because you asked for it. No one to blame but yourself."

####

Since Jack had recovered with the speed-walk home from the park, Siler closed the backyard's gate and immediately nodded down at a patch of nice thick grass, "Drop and give me fifty, soldier."

Blinking impassively at the general's automatic glare, he waited for him to do a couple of pushups, obviously without effort, then laid down carefully, full length, on him.

"What?! You can't be serious!"

Siler just grinned, holding himself tensely, ready to roll off if Jack really had a problem. The squawk had sounded more reflex than serious complaint though, and he was still pumping away, albeit more slowly. It wasn't the arms that had lost their tone fastest, sitting at those desks.

Holding his chin from touching Jack's shoulder blade, he smirked to himself, having a lot more fun than he'd expected, "You want to fuck the sergeant? First you have to obey the sergeant."

"The sergeant thinks.. a little highly of his own appeal."

Siler choked on a laugh, trying not to jostle the man he was weighing down, "The sergeant knows exactly what his appeal is. Tighten those abs and thigh muscles, general, no girly pushups if you want a reward..."

"Give all your recruits.. 'rewards', sergeant?"

Sliding a hand gently down and around, Siler laid his palm over Jack's crotch, "You're the first and last of my recruits, general." With a quick, teasing squeeze, he pulled his hand back so Jack could lower himself down to catch his breath. Rolling off, he gave him a minute before slapping his ass, "Time to give that stomach you're so worried about a *real* workout."

He ignored the groan he got in response, laying down himself, knees bent, opposite his red-faced and definitely tired lover so that their runner-clad toes were a few inches apart. Sitting up easily, he grinned, "Come on Jack, straighten out that form or I'll come over there and do it for you."

"Fuck off."

This time he outright laughed, continuing to do sit-ups smoothly, "Language, general!"

"Bite.. me."

Sitting up again, Siler waited until Jack was almost at apogee to shift his balance onto his feet, and then leaned over to nip at the general's upper lip when Jack was all the way up, his mouth open to pant softly.

"See?" he took another nibble in response to Jack's happily closed eyes, "Reward as promised."

Pulling back, he shifted into a crunch and got back into sit-up position to the sound of Jack's slightly wheezing laughter.

On his next rise, though, he frowned, "Use your abs, general. No pulling yourself up by your neck; your arms don't remotely need the work."

"Ha!.. Like.. the arms.. do you.. sergeant?"

Siler shook his head, siting still for a minute to watch his friend with hopefully-hidden concern, finally responding quietly, "..I like all of it, Jack."

"Yeah?"

Siler again shifted himself all the way to his feet, settling for stealing brief, salty kisses since Jack needed to breathe, muttering quietly, "You know damn well I do." When Jack nodded silently, dark eyes serious, Siler nodded with a hesitant smile, "Thirty more, then I get another free ride."

####

"I'm not 20 anymore, you know. You're going to kill me."

Siler rolled his eyes at the complaint, ignoring the moans of pain as he continued the slow massage up onto Jack's bare abs, "If you were 20, we'd still be out there and I'd let you find out about pain all on your own." He was quiet for a few minutes, feeling the muscles under his fingers gradually stop spasming and seeing Jack's expression finally relax. "Why are you suddenly so concerned about getting in shape, Jack?"

"..It isn't sudden. I've been trying to since I got out of DC," brown eyes opened and met his seriously, "I've worked out and stayed in military condition since I was 17, Siler. *This* is *not* who I am. It bothers me. Has since.. Since I realized it was happening."

Straightening his back, stiffened from holding a crouch over Jack's thighs, Siler shook his head, silently noting the way Jack's eyes had wandered for a second there, uncharacteristically showing the lie, "Like you said, we're not 20 anymore Jack. We're not even 40. You know you can't expect your body not to change."

"..*You're* still in shape."

Siler huffed a laugh at the hint of envy in the soft words, "Give me a few years. And throw in a desk-job while you're at it."

The rolled eyes and half-smile that that got him didn't fool him into thinking Jack was anything but still achingly self-conscious, even before he spoke, "Come on Siler, you'd find a way to work out."

He shook his head slowly, sighing at the undeniably gloomy thought, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it wouldn't be enough to 'work out' if the job didn't work me too," he shrugged, "I spend most of the day with my body tensed in strange positions; my muscles are always at work. Get rid of that... and no way could I spend enough hours in the gym to make it up."

Jack glared at him, looking annoyed now, "Telling me I can't get in shape, no matter what I do?"

"No. Telling you that having me put you through boot camp isn't going to take you back 10 years."

"...I know that even running five miles without losing my breath won't mean I can do 20 miles a day for a week; or sprint away from an army of Jaffa. I don't *want* to go back to 10 years ago; I'm not remotely willing to give you and Sam up just to have a six-pack again. But there is a midpoint. One where I'm not so damn self-conscious taking my bloody shirt off."

A part of him wanted to convince Jack that there was nothing wrong with the way he looked, because there wasn't. But on the other hand, he *knew* that the day he found himself in the same position... It would bug the hell out of him to have changed. And nothing anyone said was going to make him less grumpy about how quickly he *was* losing his strength. No, he couldn't blame Jack. But still, if *he* had to put up with mothering...

Rather than continue to argue with words, he shifted backwards until he could lean over, hearing Jack's breath stutter as his lips came down on the edge of his ribcage. When he trailed down, though, hands rose to his nape, "Siler-"

Siler lifted his head, smiling indulgently, "Don't be daft, Jack."

Not so incidentally, to his thinking, Sam had left the day before. And on top of the sudden request to work out together, it was strange just how much reticence had suddenly reappeared between the two of them.

As though Sam being *away* made her less a part of them than when she was at work. Made the two of them suddenly too real. Maybe it was only stubbornness talking, but Siler was damned if he was bending to society's judgement *now*. He'd finally convinced himself that they wanted him here, and Jack seemed to have accepted himself. The fact that Sam wasn't on the planet for a few weeks had no business affecting the intimacy between them.

Siler leaned back down, ignoring the hands still holding his neck uncertainly; if nothing else, this body-consciousness of Jack's was likely making him completely forget any other uncertainties. Which was a good thing since convincing him he was attractive was a damn sight easier than fighting rear-guard action against all-too-frequent news coverage highlighting their society's spasms against anything but love between one man and one woman.

Feeling the hot July afternoon heat their shower-cooled skins, he took his time, using that sheen of sweat to glide his lips along the soft fold of flesh that was bothering Jack so much. The fool man still had the arms of a 20 year-old and legs that would be running 5 miles easily as soon as his lungs came back from their holidays. Even the gut that bothered him so much had plenty of muscle under the offending padding. If his knees weren't shot he'd be passing physicals again in a month. Well, now that he was actually training he would.

Rather than have that be the point though, today's reality was what he needed Jack to know he was happy with. Because even in the very *best* of worlds, one of these years -god, was he really contemplating years?-, they'd all go downhill more permanently.

The hands at his nape were finally relaxing, smoothing into his hair; and that sigh of ease made Siler smile as Jack's body stretched out, arching into his touch. He shifted to lay down, his weight on his forearms and his arousal pressed against Jack's leg as he continued to make his point.

"If that's supposed to convince me of something, Si'," Jack's voice was quiet, more sigh than articulation, giving away the pleasure he was feeling, "I hate to break it to you, but I happen to know that you just like sex a little too much."

Raising his lips, Siler laughed self-deprecatingly, resting his forehead on the left of Jack's diaphragm, breathing in the familiar scent, "Give me a break, Jack," with his weight on his left elbow, he could spread his free hand and smooth it over his lover's warm skin from thigh to sternum, "And anyway.. that *is* the point. *You* damn well turn me on, not a six-pack. Going to turn *your* back on *me* if I get permanently injured?"

The question had been rhetorical, but Siler looked up when Jack's grip stiffened and he lifted his head to growl, "You know *damned* well we wouldn't!"

"Hey!" Siler sat up hurriedly, frowning and reaching for Jack's cheek, "Of course I know," grimacing at the hurt in the man's eyes, Siler leaned his forehead on Jack's, his voice soft with apology, "I was just making a point." Jack's hand coming up to grip his shoulder tightly made him swallow painfully, tensing and trying to edge off the fear he'd just been congratulating himself for beating. Damn he felt cold suddenly. "Told you I was crap at this."

The gravelly mutter sounded so miserable that Jack made himself take a breath and let go of the tension cranking him; with Sam away, they couldn't afford to *both* lose their way. What the hell had started this anyway??

He tugged, jerking Siler down on the bed and then turned to his side so they faced each other, a hand on his throat feeling the sergeant's runaway pulse betraying his impassive expression, "Take it easy. My fault for being on edge." He rolled his eyes at the lack of reaction that got, "Come on, Si', I was being an idiot; you were even *dealing* with that..."

"Not well."

Wincing, since that particular fact was due to *his* stubbornness, Jack grabbed his bicep with mock-roughness, glad to feel him return the jostle, seeing the will to hear in the eyes he kept trained on Jack, "Cut it out, sergeant. There *was* no right way. Just be glad I didn't ask if my ass looked fat." He grinned when that made Siler actually laugh a little.

*And* grab his ass.


	3. Family emergency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siler learns another lesson in family (august - 3 months PB)

Siler swore as sparks flew up in front of his face, "Turn it off!!" What the hell was wrong with the damned power supply?? This was the second module it had literally blown up in his face!

"Sergeant! Phone."

He banged his shoulder with a grunt as he hurriedly shifted out of the greasy, dusty and cramped mainframe's enclosure, creaking himself up to grab the phone the airman had left unhooked for him, "Siler here, how can I help you?"

"Outside call, sergeant, transferring it." He heard the click as the line switched and then unsteady breaths, as though the person on the other end had been.. crying??

"Siler? Where's Jack?"

He blinked, tensing in worry at the tear-choked voice, "Cassie??" He hurriedly turned away from the room, hunching to mumble into his chest, "He had to go to Washington. Are you OK?" It was patently obvious she wasn't; but on the other hand, it wasn't really his place to pry if she didn't want to tell him. No matter how hard it would be to keep working without knowing-

"..No."

The pitiful sniff that followed that cracked word made his shoulders tighten another notch, just-born instincts making the decision for him. He looked around, planning what orders to leave and who he had to get permission from, "Where are you?"

"At the house."

He nodded, trying to sound reassuring, "I'll be there in less than forty minutes, OK?"

She sniffed again, just about making his heart clench, "..'K."

####

Hank looked up when the sergeant walked in, straightening when he saw him looking worried and in a hurry, "Sergeant?"

"Sir," the man came to attention rather than starting a rapid explanation, making Hank wonder what was up *now*, "Sir, I.. have a family emergency. Is it alright if I.."

The general waved the obviously worried sergeant away, relaxing that his base wasn't wasn't about to blow up, "Of course, of course. Nothing serious I hope?"

"I don't know yet, sir."

"Go. Go take care of your family." He returned the man's salute casually, watching him jog away and not surprised when Walter walked in a second later. ".. Did *you* know he had a family?"

The sergeant shrugged, looking very curious, "No, sir. Hasn't changed his next-of-kin that I know of..."

####

Siler hurried into the house, letting the door slam behind him. He was about to call out when he saw the young woman hugging a cushion on the couch, surrounded in used tissues. For a second he just about panicked at the unfamiliar scene; but he was a trained soldier who'd faced so many terrifying things he should be immune to fear, right?

He caught himself with a wince and hurried forward. "Cassie? Sweetheart," sweeping a spot clear of junk, he pulled her into his arms, feeling her wrap herself around his neck and sob into his dirty shoulder, "What's wrong?"

"I'm.. I think I'm pregnant."

####

When Jack walked through the door and stared at the two of them in surprise, Siler shifted Cassie's sleeping body gently over on the couch and took the older man to the kitchen.

"What's going on??" Jack whispered, worried about his tear-stained little girl but automatically responding to Siler's relaxed posture with diminished alarm; whatever was up was under control. A good sergeant was worth his weight in gold, even at home.

Siler grinned wryly, feeling strange at being in the middle of such family drama and keeping his voice low too, "Luckily, I have permission to brief you. She said she assumed you were aware of her boyfriend?"

Jack glared reflexively, nodding, "Yeah. Do I finally get to beat him up?"

Siler shook his head, taking a precautionary restraining grip on the other man's shoulder "No. But she thinks she's pregnant*don't*shout." He tensed, knowing there was going to be an explosion.

"WHAT??"

Siler grabbed the other shoulder, staring his friend down, "I'm pretty sure you're supposed to keep pregnant women calm, Jack. Settle down before you wake her up."

Jack breathed quickly through clenched teeth, *really* wanting to find his daughter's lover and KILL him slowly. He knew damned well no one was going to let him, but the daydream helped keep him from taking his fury out on the wrong man. He finally nodded, "She needs to get to the SGC and get tested properly."

Siler nodded, glad to see the man thinking clearly and pulling him into a half-hesitant hug. The afternoon had been just a little stressful; Siler was *not* used to comforting young women. Or grown women for that matter. But Sam and Jack really had made Cassie feel like a daughter and he'd done what he could to listen and comfort. Hoping he at least wasn't screwing things up worse. He sighed, thumping his head on Jack's shoulder, feeling him hug him back and glad to get some support and comfort of his own, "We're going to wish Sam was here, aren't we?"

Cassie smiled at the scene from the doorway, seeing Jack wince in agreement and bend his head against Siler's.

"It's OK guys, I just want to be held a bit; I can handle the rest." Ignoring the way they sprang apart, flustered, she walked over to her father and snuggled into the arms he opened for her; grabbing Siler's shirtfront before he could escape and tugging him into holding her too before dropping her head on Jack's shoulder.

Then she tilted her head up, wrinkling her no-longer-clogged nose with a frown, "Why do I smell burnt hair??"

Siler swallowed his grin when Jack rolled his eyes, exaggerating for their amusement, "Siler probably tried to electrocute himself again."

"Heyyy!" Siler complained but he didn't say anything else as Jack ran a careful hand through his hair. He couldn't believe he was getting used to fussing... From *General O'Neill*, of all people. Though he really should have known, after all those years catching him sneaking in to watch over his injured team members in the infirmary, trying to stare them well as they slept.

"I don't suppose you went to the infirmary?"

"I'm fine."

Jack muttered in response to the blithe reassurance, looking put-upon, "If I believed every time you and Carter said you were 'fine', you'd both be dead." He found the singed section of hair and gently touched the scalp underneath, turning the sergeant's head so he could see, unaware of the wink the man gave Cassie, "Doesn't look like it reached the skin." He smoothed the hair back absently before bringing his hand back to hold a mistily smiling Cassie. Some days she really loved watching Jack take care of people.

Then she frowned up at Siler as he straightened, arms loosely around her, "You're not in trouble for coming home to me are you?"

"Nah. Landry seemed fine with my needing the time off," he winced, "Walter answered the phone though.. knowing him, he almost certainly recognized your voice..." he shrugged, his hand stroking jerkily up and down her arm, "But don't worry about it sweetheart."

She nodded, trusting that he was more than capable; unaware of the fond grin Jack threw him over her head for taking care of his little girl. She sighed, cuddling back into her father, "I wish you could come to the SGC with us."

####

The next morning, Siler found a requisition for maintenance to one of the infirmary scanners and picked the menial job for himself, taking his time and chatting up the nurses until he heard the surface checkpoint call down about visitors. A few extra tweaks and cleans to the temperamental machine and he got up to go as Cassie sat herself on a bed, Jack standing by her as a nurse took her vitals.

It was nothing at all for the fidgeting general to just *happen* to stop him so they could chat over old times. And if Siler happened to call her 'Miss Cass' a few times, well, he was known for being a little odd, and it made the nervous young woman giggle; which made the nurse smile approvingly.

He managed to hang around until the doc came back, then stopped to tie his boot laces within hearing of the drawn curtain, smiling before he could stop himself when he heard Cass sound awed and happy at the test results. He made himself get serious before he stood up. Catching Jack's choked-up voice congratulating her, he decided he needed to make a stop before he went to revisit Lee's generator.

####

"-So you'll be back in a week, colonel?"

Listening patiently, Walter made a mental note to get the general a snack; that tone was getting short.

"Yes sir," hearing Colonel Carter's voice break up again, he frowned with annoyance, tweaking the audio filter again, trying to make up for the interference still showing up on the Phoenix's telsystem. "We're about a day behind schedule but I have high hopes that we can make it up as soon as the engine cooling is fixed."

"Alright, well, if there's anything else..?"

Walter lifted a hand quickly, "Actually sir, Siler requested a moment to pick the colonel's brains if it was possible."

Landry's brows rose in curiosity, "Oh?"

"Something about Doctor Lee's generator I think."

"Umph. That man destroys more generators.."

"Yes sir. Permission?"

The general was already walking away when he waved a hand in vague disavowal of care so Walter shrugged, rerouted the call and paged the sergeant.

####

"Sergeant Siler, call on three."

"Thanks Walter." Clicking off the radio, Siler distractedly reached over to the phone besides the surveillance-room computer. "Sergeant Siler speaking."

"Siler?"

"S- Colonel!" It was times like this, when he had to consciously control his reactions to the sound of Sam's voice, that he was forced to realize just how much his life was changing. Taking stock of the people around him, Siler kept his voice even, knowing that dropping it would immediately arouse suspicion, "Colonel, was.. trying to fix something.. not sure how. Thought you dealt with something similar, years ago... Something to do with a call to a home function?.. Had to do with one of Miss Fraiser's misadventures?" Damn. He should have found a way to send a coded data stream instead; coming up with bullshit was *not* his strong point.

"The home function? Err.. yes, of course," he could almost hear her frowning in concentration, trying to guess what he'd meant, "Tricky code, that. Err.. there's a unit in the top left drawer of the desk I've been using in Lee's lab. Retina scan access, you're already coded in. Hook it up and it might help."

Wondering if she'd really understood what he was trying to say, Siler settled for nodding seriously, "Thank you ma'am. I'll try that. Hopefully it'll fix everything."

####

When the phone rang just as he threw the shepherd's pie in the oven, Siler grabbed the handset automatically, walking back to the counter with it on his ear. They were out of potatoes *and* onion all of a.. "O'Neill residence."

"Siler? What's going on??"

He winced at the strained worry in Sam's tone, looking up gratefully at the newest spacephone adaptor he'd found in her desk and installed on the base unit for the house, "Nothing's wrong, sorry, should have found a way to tell you that earlier. Just hang on a sec," he covered the mouthpiece to shout to the living room, "Sam's on the phone!" He heard footsteps hurrying over and uncovered the phone, "Cassie just really needs to talk to you. And here she is." He handed the young woman the receiver with a pat on the shoulder, watching her walk to the living room and hoping he was concealing his worry better than Jack had been doing.

"Cassie? What's wrong?"

Cassie sighed, hunching into the corner of the couch, "Not.. 'wrong'. I'm.. pregnant." She wasn't surprised at the silence that that blunt announcement caused on the other end, imagining Sam sitting in her quarters with her mouth open and eyes blinking in shock.

"Pregnant. Are you OK?" Cassie sighed in relief at the hesitant mothering. At the lack of accusation or- Starting to feel once again as warm and cared for as she had with the boys holding her, she straightened, breathing more easily at the confirmation of the support she suddenly really needed. She could feel the future opening up now, could let herself actually acknowledge what was happening, was about to happen...

"Yeah, I'm fine. A little.. freaked. We really did use condoms every t-time."

"I know. Accidents happen Cassie. It's going to be OK. Have you told him yet?"

"No. I.. I needed to-"

"Be sure?"

"..Yeah. And.. I needed you guys to be OK with it."

Sam laughed a little raggedly in her ear, for a moment almost drowned out by the static on the line, "How are the boys taking it? Siler's work-mask seemed intact over audio.."

Cassie smiled softly, remembering, "He was great. Jack was in Washington when I got here and Siler actually came home to take care of me.."

"He's a good man."

"Yeah," she giggled, "You should have seen them jump apart when I walked into the kitchen and they were hugging though."

"Cassie!" The reproof would have had more effect if Sam weren't giggling right along with her. "..Are you.. OK with that too?"

Remembering her first shock, all those weeks ago, Cassie didn't hesitate now, "I'm fine, Sam. I don't suppose it'll make much difference, but you can tell them that..."

"Probably not. Even Siler's aware that it's not the most accepted thing."

Cassie snickered at the wry humour in the colonel's tone, "El-oh-el! 'Even Siler' really didn't sound good, Sam!"

Her mother groaned, "**Please** don't say that Cassie. Writing it is fine, but if we're talking you can *actually* 'laugh'!"

Cassie giggled, "Sorry. Slipped out."

"As for Siler... it's.. the honest truth. He's not one to pretend to be anything but himself."

Cassie's grin softened, "Sam, it's OK. I like him. He's a good uncle."

"..Uncle??"

"Ummhumm."

She could almost hear the sappy smile through the light years when her mom finally replied softly, "...I love you, Cassie."

"Love you too."

####

When she heard the cell ring, Cassie looked up from her book with a frown. She spotted the forgotten item among other male pocket inhabitants and picked it up quickly, answering as she hurried to the master bedroom, "Just a moment please." It wasn't like Jack to forget his phone, even now that he was supposed to be retired, but she knew her news had thrown him a bit loopy so it wasn't *that* shocking. She knocked quickly at the door, carefully covering the mic, "Guys? Cell phone!"

It only took a few seconds for Jack to open the door, frowning grumpily and holding his pants in place awkwardly. As she handed him the cell though, he swore, cutting himself off as he covered the mic and stepped back to the rumpled bed with a hiss, "Shit! It's yours." Cassie winced, hoping Jack's voice hadn't been recognized -or *hers*!-, staying in the doorway to find out if something was wrong as Siler sat up with the blanket pooling at his waist and cleared his throat to answer formally.

"Sergeant Siler, sir. ... Yes sir, of course sir, shouldn't take more than forty minutes sir. Yes sir." She *just* turned around in time to avoid seeing a lot more than she wanted as he pretty much jumped out of bed, throwing the phone on the comforter and rattling off quickly, "SG-13's having MALP problems, gotta- oops, *sorry* Cass!!"

Cassie laughed at the sudden mortified tone as he no doubt looked up from dressing and noticed her still in the room, "That's alright Siler, I have good reflexes. I'm the one who's sorry, I didn't even think that it might not be Jack's." She jumped as he suddenly appeared besides her, barely halting his quick jog out to drop a kiss on her forehead.

"I'll see you later!"

She watched him hurry away bemusedly, sure the BDUs weren't fitting him right. When Jack came to stand besides her, his pants fastened and an old BDU shirt of his own on, she looked at him and blinked, making the connection, "He's wearing one of your old uniforms, isn't he?"

Jack shrugged, smirking, "He does it pretty often. Throws his jumpsuit on as soon as he get to the mountain. Less obvious on him than on Sam, anyway. Also less obvious than showing up wearing the filthy uniform he had on earlier. Have to remind him to bring them back though, the JJO stitched in the tag could be a mite hard to explain."

Cassie nodded, remembering lazy Saturdays early in their relationship when she'd seen Sam dive into his uniforms for comfort clothes. She could understand; there was something about a loose shirt and knowing it belonged to your man that was just.. very weirdly comforting. She grinned, wondering if Siler got the same feeling. She'd have to ask. Or not; Jack was the one who needed teasing, Siler was too nice...


	4. Little moments like that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slices of life

Cassie glared at the alarm clock.

She was going home today; the cuddling was not worth getting woken up before the sun anymore!! She'd had to bite her tongue a few times to keep from foolishly using the 'pregnant' card. The *last* thing she wanted was to have them start to treat her like an invalid. That they'd somehow avoided diving into that stereotypical behaviour was a lovely surprise that she didn't trust to last; and refused to foolishly trigger.

No matter what time of day they thought it was reasonable to start bantering down the stairs.

Knowing better after three days than to even try to get back to sleep, she got up, grumbling about crazy soldiers as she got in the shower.

####

"Come on chubby, who said you could stop?"

"*Chubby*?? Wh-who are you calling 'ch-chubby', Stubby."

Cassie groaned out loud, gently knocking her head on the cupboard in front of where she stood sipping her coffee. Oh god, name-calling now?? How old *were* they??

Hearing the ruckus coming toward the kitchen now, she looked up, unsurprised to see Siler just losing a headlock on her father. She cringed as the resulting mock-fight came a little too close to the oven.

"Boys!"

She stood glaring at them as they froze, Jack with an arm just settling around Siler's throat and the other tickling his ribs. The guilty expressions they turned on her would have been a lot funnier if it wasn't the middle of the night.

They slowly disengaged, patting and outright stroking each other as they went, the adrenaline that had made them so hyper obviously passing and leaving them a little sorry at handling each other so roughly. She shook her head; men!

"Sorry, Cass." Jack dropped a kiss on her forehead on his sweaty way to the fridge.

"Sorry, Cass." Siler, on the other hand, threw the words at her as he headed up the stairs to shower and get ready for the early shift that was causing the pre-dawn workouts.

Turing back to the retired Air Force major general glugging down a glass of OJ, she shook her head, "*Stubby*??"

Jack gave her a too-innocent look, "What? He's two inches shorter than I am."

Oh that was tooo easy! Feeling wicked, Cassie shuddered ostensibly, scrunching her nose at him, "Wayyy T M I, Jack!!" When he actually choked on the start of his second glass, she only *hoped* she was keeping the laughter out of her expression.

"Cassandra Fraiser!!" he sputtered for another second, "In **height**! As you *well* knew, missy! I can't believe you even *said* that!! Even *thought* it!"

Unable to choke it any more as he shuddered dramatically, Cassie snickered, lifting her coffee cup for a sip, "Suuuure you did." Her first adoptive mom had been so right; teasing the teasers was the most fun.

Apparently at a loss for words, he shook his finger at her, mumbling about kids and respect as he went up the stairs too. Thoroughly pleased, Cassie went back to the table to continue reading her book, looking up ten minutes later when Siler came back down, wet-haired and jumpsuit-dressed and bee-lining for the coffee.

"Hey, Siler."

"Cass."

Cassie smiled, amused at how different he could be; from hyper and freely teasing Jack, to the most gentle-voiced of strong silent types.

Watching him stare around the kitchen with a frown as he sipped the strong brew, Cassie waited until he made his decision and opened the cupboard where he hid his breakfast bars, then she got up and walked over. "Siler?"

"Umm?"

She took the coffee out of his hand and laid it on the counter before pulling him into a quick hug, stepping back before he could freeze self-consciously, "I just wanted to say goodbye; going to catch a flight home today."

Slowly reaching for his coffee again, he watched her carefully, at a guess trying to see how she felt, "Had enough of the mothering?"

Since that sounded a lot better than 'I'm tired of playing mother to the two of you toddlers', she nodded, smiling a little. It wasn't a complete lie, anyway. The two of them *had* been very mothery. She just didn't *mind* that. Especially when it had helped make the sudden change in her life feel so much less terrifying.

He smiled back a little shyly, and she wondered just how rare the expression was, considering how stiff it looked, "Sorry. They're a bad influence on me."

Remembering the unhesitating way he'd flown to her rescue that first day, Cassie laughed, refraining from pointing out that there hadn't been any occasion for them to influence him. It was obvious he didn't want to think of himself as the mothering sort.

Even though he so was.

####

Looking up with a glare when the door to his borrowed office opened, Jack frowned even more at seeing Paul Davis' worried look. Damn it, he wanted to get *out* of here, not have *more* crap delay him.

"General, I'm afraid we've just received news of a possible threat to your family-"

"What??"

Wincing at his all-too familiar shout, Davis nonetheless continued smoothly, ignoring the threat inherent in the man who'd risen to a hulking stance, "I've already put Miss Fraiser under guard; I have confirmation that she's fine. And we do *not* judge the threat to extend to the Phoenix."

Right. And *he* was in the Pentagon and had a large, lethally-trained lackey for his supposed only 3-day stay. "What about the-" Shit! Jack clenched his teeth, swallowing the word 'house'. "Davis, I need to make a call *right* now." He watched the lieutenant colonel blink in surprise but turn and leave obediently as he reached for his cell; praying it wasn't monitored. Praying nothing was wrong-

When the ringing of the land-line to his house finally stopped and a sleep-grumpy voice answered "Yes?", Jack's exhaled in a rush of relief.

"Get away from the house. Now. Someone is apparently threatening my 'family'. I'll be having some people come guard the place, but-"

"Shit." Siler hopped out of bed, senses jerking awake and alert for anything threatening; and suddenly wishing *he* carried a gun, too. "What about-" he stopped, aware that Jack had been trying to be circumspect, "Umm, the little one?"

"Already under protection. Just get *yourself* to safety."

Hanging up, Jack swore under his breath, getting up and stalking to the door to get Davis back, torn between worrying about the danger to Cass -and her BABY, shit! AND her boyfriend, double shit!- and the one they'd brought to *Siler*. Fuck fuck fuck.

####

Hearing through the rumour mill that Sam was going to be several days late due to a recurrence of the bug in the Phoenix's engine-cooling plant, Siler found himself with mixed feelings. He missed her, he admitted that nowadays, and wanted her *home*. A feeling exacerbated by missing Jack too, for the last couple of days. But having his family in danger left him leery of any additional members of said family coming back to Earth.

He was working as long as he could just to avoid going home to the silence and his thoughts, stuck in a mucky sea of anxiety. Jack had contacted his cell from a pay phone that first day to let him know that someone had gotten an interest in Cass's baby. Colonel Davis had gotten her under protection before the bad guys had gotten their act together and he and Jack were hot on their trail, but Siler could read the worry in the general's tone when he asked that Siler stay on the base if he could find a reason. And if Jack was worried about *him*, then Sam would sure as hell not be safe.

And he remembered enough stories of SG-1's escapades to know that Jack *was* in danger. And there was *shit* he could do about it! Dammit!

He turned his cell on as soon as he stepped out of the mountain, aware of the old Beretta that he'd pulled out of his safe and that now rested at the small of his back, making time feel disjointed; the small gun dated back to the dark and alone days of his teenage years, but wearing it in an Air Force Special Ops concealed waist holster.. felt like a tight link to Jack every time he touched the stiff leather. He was also aware that he was too obviously wary; there was no real way to hide circling his truck, and he could only hope that it wasn't obvious he was staring at the seemingly random grease marks he'd carefully put in assorted spots; trying to make it hard to tamper with his vehicle without leaving a trace.

By the time the sleep had worn off and he'd started driving home that first day, he'd already realized that he was going to have to demand/ weasel/ browbeat Jack into training him properly. There was no way he was going to be a dependant every time some fucking bastards came gunning for his family. And the Beretta and amateur trap-laying definitely left him a dependent against the kind of people that he knew all too often went after SG-1 and their hangers-on.

Hearing the 'incoming message' beep and seeing the words 'All clear; come home.' might have made him collapse against his door in relief, but nothing could take back the reminder of the danger his partners, and now he, lived under.

####

NEXT in the verse is [draco_somnians's Home safe (NC17): Recovering from fear](http://draco_somnians.livejournal.com/122902.html)

####

Laying bonelessly with her head on Jack's belly, listening to the reassuring sound of his once-again steady breathing and staring at Siler, laying besides them with his head at a level with hers and his hand twitching slightly where it rested possessively on her rear, Sam was utterly content and not the slightest little bit inclined to move. She had a feeling the smile on her face was even dopier than Siler's. 

And she wouldn't give this up for anything short of the planet's very survival.

She unfolded her arm, reaching out a lazy hand to come to rest just touching Siler's upper chest, and her eyes closed, nuzzling lazily at the sweat-slick skin she was resting on, feeling Jack's hand stroke through her hair a bit before going still again. Very hazy with thoroughly pleasured tiredness and not inclined to start thinking about grim reality just yet, it took a minute for the feeling of 'something different' to seriously register. Nuzzling more firmly, she confirmed the sensory information and made the difficult decision to actually follow this inquiry, making the effort to raise her head.

When she'd gotten home, her priority hadn't extended beyond making sure her family was healthy and happy and at home.

And *safe*, considering the events Siler and Jack had hinted at over the spa- *telsystem* and that Landry had added to at the end of her debrief.

But pushing herself up with a hand on Jack's belly, creating no more than a grumble, she shoved away the grim thought for now and started to grin instead, seeing now not only the tightening of his skin over his cheeks and belly, but a light of self-confident pride in his eyes that not even his recent brooding could bury and that had been missing for a while. 

Very deliberately looking him over from thighs to shoulders, by the time she reached his face, there was a pleased smirk curling his lips.

"Changed workout, general?" Sam raised her brows with a smirk of her own, watching Jack's ease into an abashed smile, his eyes sliding to Siler, still laying besides them.

Ahha! She looked down and the sergeant winked at her with that smile that was starting to make more frequent appearances with their time together; also looking a lot more tanned, now that she was paying attention to physical appearances. She looked back at Jack, chuckling quietly, pleased he'd found something to feel better about himself but not about to comment about *that*. "The sergeant been riding your ass, has he?"

She was going to lean down and get a kiss but stopped at the sudden wide-eyed look she got in response to her tease. Blinking in confusion at the blush rising up his neck and glancing at Siler for a clue, only to find him choking and starting to laugh, she replayed her words and then gaped at them for a few seconds before dissolving into giggles of her own, falling besides Jack, unable to stop the laughter bubbling through her.

Jack recovered first, tackling her and starting to tickle her ribs with a teasing growl to her neck.

That he easily avoided her lethal reaction drove home the point and managed to take care of her no doubt partially adrenaline-fed giggle-fit, kneeling face-to-face with him on the big bed and catching her breath as Siler watched them with a quizzical look.

"Just how much do you have to control yourselves to keep from killing me, anyway?"

They both turned to him with curious expressions, but Sam got her thoughts organized first. "You don't generally go out of your way to hit our trigger points, Siler. If you did..." she looked at Jack, taking the silent request to finish it, "You learn control at the same time as the moves. As long as we're awake and thinking straight.." she grimaced at assorted memories, "And are 'ourselves', we control the reflexes with the awareness of the people around us. You, Daniel, Cassie are to be careful with. Teal'c, less so. Everyone else is.. a judgement call." 

*Everyone* was a judgement call, but she didn't need to remind Siler that even she and Jack should always be taken with an awareness of alien dangers; *he* was all too aware of that already.

Siler nodded, watching them steadily and deciding that this was as good a time as any to open the debate. "You need to train me."

The confused blinks he got didn't surprise him and he elaborated carefully, hoping against hope that they'd be reasonable about this, "This kind of shit is going to happen again. I'm sure Cass can take care of herself generally; but not pregnant," his head jerked at them, "For that matter, I damn well have to be able to cover either of *your* sixes if you're hurt." And maybe it would help Jack worry less about *him* and concentrate on Cass.

He watched them look at each other, not surprised at their reticence; he remembered the bleakness in Sam's eyes after some missions. 

He'd never had any wish to be able to kill easily; but now... He wondered just how much having him, comparatively, a civilian was a part of the what they.. 'liked' about him; at least during the peaceful times. 

They were watching him with more pain than hesitation than he'd expected. It wasn't just the idea of training him that was bothering them; it was the idea of him trained.

Jack was the one to finally speak, sounding half-resigned even as his brooding of the last few days made a reappearance, "*We* shouldn't be the ones-"

But Siler shook his head calmly, "No way is the Air Force going to field-train me at my age." And in any case, the last thing he wanted was to get sent in the field afterwards; Jack had enough worrying with *Sam* being in the field.

At least he knew they wouldn't try to argue that anyone else should personally train him, wouldn't trust anyone else to teach him well enough to keep him safe the next time some ex-Black ops bastards threatened them all.

####

Hunting through the living room and wondering if Cassie had borrowed her rarely-used purse and left it in the spare bedroom before leaving that morning, Sam yelled toward the kitchen where the boys were getting their supper ready, "Jack? Are you going to insist I use your card again?"

Accepting the beer Siler passed him, Jack rolled his eyes, watching the grin that flickered over his friend's face in curiosity as he yelled back, " 'Course I am. 'S the only way I can guaranty you'll model for me." Hearing a faint grunt in reply before she went back to her grumbling, he shook his head, pushing the onion to the side of the board and starting to chop the mushrooms before he loudly grumbled right back, "How the hell come Vala gets to kidnap you when you just got back? Doesn't she know we get first dibs on you?"

"You'll have me for the whole weekend while we ride next week. She only knows about *you* and I think she sees it as rescuing me from stifling cuddl- Siler!? Why is *your* card in my handbag??"

Jack's brows flew up, mouth closing on his planned reply to Vala's comments as he looked at the smirking sergeant waiting for him to finish his part of the prep, hearing Sam's heels clipping toward them.

"What?" Siler took a sip of his beer before calling out idly, "I just want you to buy me someth-"

Glaring in exasperation as she walked into the kitchen, Sam caught Siler's eyes just before he took a swallow of his beer, only to watch as he choked on the mouthful when he saw her, eyes staring fixedly at her as Jack hurriedly went to pound his back.

Frowning from Sam to the man choking besides him, Jack took another look at Sam and then asked curiously, "Si'? I'll admit that's a.." he took yet another look, leering into her raised brow and smirk, "*Very* lovely dress, but you've not only seen her naked, you've painted her with honey and taken pictures.. what the hell's wrong with you, man?"

Catching his breath but still staring at her -or more specifically, at her cleavage- avidly, Siler answered with a cough-roughened voice, "Yeah, well, the *first* time I saw her in it, we were at work and I had to make a fast retreat or I'd have made.. an even *bigger* fool of myself."

It was Jack's turn to gawk at her, "You wore *that* in the SGC??"

Sam rolled her eyes, refraining from agreeing that it really wasn't appropriate, instead turning patient eyes on Siler, "Tell him whose fault it was."

But Siler barely blinked up at her before refocusing again, "Fault? How would I know, ma'am?"

She raised teasing brows at the slip, trying to resist a giggle at his reaction, "The person who was standing next to me..?"

"Err.. was there someone next to you?"

Now Sam grinned outright, absolutely loving the appreciative attention. Not that the boys weren't always appreciative, but it took a lot to make Siler go gaga; outside of sex anyway -*that* was always a good way to rewire his brain.

"Sammm?"

"Ummm?" Sam absently replied to Jack's suspicious tone, delighted at the way Siler was still freely relishing her outfit while slowly raising his beer back to his mouth. She should dress up more often...

"..You didn't wear the stuff from *Vic secrets* to the SGC did you??"

####

"I tell you she must have recognized me from TV." .. "You didn't see the look she gave me when she scanned it. And then when she handed me the bag she made a *point* of calling me 'general'; with a smirk! Next time Si's getting it!"

Sam laughed in his ear, "I'm pretty sure he just gets a box from the 'net."

Jack gapped, mind agog, "A *box*??"

"Jack. He's been single for a long time. He uses, *used*, it for.. independent work."

He grinned briefly, imagining her rolled eyes at having to come up with code that would pass in the SGC. "...You mean when he jerks off?"

"Yes. Jack, you've bought it before; this is in your head. Look, I have to go."

Sam growled at the handset and the sometimes exasperating man beyond it before swallowing her annoyance and lifting her eyes.

Daniel raised a brow, smirking, "Do I want to know what you were talking about?"

Trying not to blush and just as glad to be distracted from thinking of home right now, Sam blinked innocently, "..Probably not."

"..Right," his humour vanishing, Daniel's shoulders hunched a little as he started looking put-upon, "So Vala wants to invite you two for supper."

Sam blinked in surprise, "What.. why?"

"She's been watching TV too much. Decided that we don't 'entertain'," his fingers drew the apostrophes, his eyes rolling with exasperation, "Enough."

About to automatically agree, Sam's jaw clenched and she frowned. She and Jack *had* occasionally done the 'couples' thing, over the years. But... just how did that work, now? "I'll... talk about it with.. him."

She saw Daniel's eyes suddenly lock on hers and understanding wince across his expression. When he shrugged a silent apology for not thinking, Sam nodded, lips twisting ruefully at life's little quirks.

####

Still smirking at Jack turning into a prude over buying KY, Siler opened the bathroom storage cupboard. For some reason he'd expected to find a box-sized space having appeared on some nice convenient shelf.

Instead, he faced linen mountains and quasi chaos.

Holding his box on one forearm, the other hand came up slowly, stiff from the training they'd slowly started him on, to scratch his skull and then hold his nape as he shook his head, trying to decide if his curiosity was stronger than his wariness; did he want to know what all those bottles, jars, tubes and boxes were supposed to do?? He'd been around enough and been through enough fashion fads in his day; but there was a very shallow limit to what products he'd really let himself get exposed to. And this... was way beyond. Since the bathroom didn't hold a fraction so many mysteries, he had to assume that these were remnants of past attempts to interest Sam.

Looking back toward the stairs longingly, he finally gave up the hope of any rescue and faced the job at hand. Leaving the neatly stacked sheets and towels alone, he set his box down and looked at the chaos-shelf. Making the educated guess that the dusty things were *not* in some invisible order, he started reorganizing, tallest at the back and shorter things at the front, no empty gaps between. Studiously strangling the curiosity urging him reading labels; it was hard to resist curiosity, it really was.

Right up until he found, hidden way at the back on its side, one box that even *he* recognized. Starting to laugh, Siler put the last couple of jars in their new close-knit order and slid his stock into the space he'd created.

Still chuckling uncontrollably, he opened his dusty treasure as he slowly walked out of the room. Finding the bottle inside opened and half-used, he had to stop at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing and laughing so hard he didn't trust himself to even try the steps.

"Siler??"

He looked at Sam through the tears streaking his vision. He couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself go and laughed like this, couldn't remember feeling this rush of good endorphins tingling through his whole body. Controlling himself just enough to speak, he shakily held up his evidence, "H-he actually u-u-used this?!?"

Sam watched with wide eyes as their sergeant slid down to the floor, leaning back on the railing with tears rolling down his cheeks and the widest smile utterly changing his face, his eyes shining glee at her. It was impossible not to smile with him, even as she felt her chest squeeze with feelings so strong that she felt almost paralysed.

It didn't even occur to her to look away at what had done him in. Instead, she crouched down and gently touched her lips to the deep wrinkle that had suddenly appeared at the corner of his eye.

Cherishing the intimacy; cherishing *him*.

His hilarity momentarily distracted, Siler reached up to her nape and tugged her down for soft kiss; but then he started laughing again and she pulled back from his bouncing touch, grinning and hearing Jack trail her up the stairs to investigate.

Finally getting curious, she glanced at what Siler held and burst out in giggles, turning to Jack with an evil smirk, "Gr-Grecian Formula f-for men?? You didn't!!" Watching the chagrin in her lover's expression as he stared at the ancient hair colouring and the two people killing themselves laughing, Sam could feel hiccoughs threatening and tried to choke herself down to snickers, standing up and running her fingers through his now definitely *white* hair. "Jaaack... you mean you could have flashed grey at me when we first met?"

Hunching his shoulders defensively, Jack glared down at the man still chuckling and staring up at him with the promise of endless mayhem. Wondering what had possessed him to forget to throw that bottle away during at least *one* of his moves, he muttered, "I didn't *know* you liked-" Then his eyes widened, hearing the unfortunate admission come slipping out of his mouth.

Sam's grin actually found more real estate to expand to and Si' went back to laughing, though he did manage to spit out a taut, no doubt the first of many, "Trying to im-impress the pr-pretty blonde captain, Jack?" The sergeant pulled himself upright to smirk right at Jack, reaching out and joining Sam in messing with his hair while he stood with commendable stoicism. Really; very commendable. "Heck, even *I* figured out she liked the grey," he dropped a kiss in Sam's neck, laughter finally under control, "Luckily for me."

Glaring at him in frustration, Jack pointed out acidly, "Siler, you hardly have any grey *now*."

The younger man snorted, still smiling, "Had just as much then though."

"Were you really trying to impress me?"

Jack made himself face Samantha's far-too-sweet smile. Samantha was not sweet. Sweet meant evil; almost always aimed at *him*.

"No? Maybe it was Siler you were trying to impress?"

Jack closed his eyes, sighing in resignation as that made the sergeant crack up again.

Siler leaned his head briefly on Jack's shoulder, his voice raspy from the hilarity, "God I love you guys."

Still chuckling, he patted Jack's ass familiarly and turned, starting down the stairs, shaking his head and wiping the tears off his face while throwing saucily behind him, "And just for your information, I like the white too, Jack."

Sam and Jack both stood frozen and a little wide-eyed. It was obvious he hadn't even heard himself and they stared at each other helplessly.

Sam knew there was no question that they loved him back; she had for years, and finally being together had made her face and accept it. And Jack.. she knew him well enough these days to recognize the way he watched their partner; and she rather thought he was aware of it.

But there was every question as to whether Siler was ready to hear it. And even if he was, how to say it without spooking him...

####

Sighing softly at the duelling thoughts disturbing her, Sam realized just how quiet and banter-less their game of monopoly was when Siler and Jack both responded with concerned frowns. It wasn't like any of them to play games together so mechanically.

"Sam?"

Careful not to look at Jack, too conscious that he was also worrying over at least one of her concerns, Sam rolled her eyes, annoyed at herself, "Sorry. I'm fine, Siler." Knowing they had to deal with at least one of the situations, she gave Jack a warning glance, then looked back at Siler, somewhere between uncomfortable and amused, "Daniel and Vala have 'invited us for supper'."

When Jack snorted, Siler gave him a confused look, to which he grumbled, "You wouldn't *believe* Vala's ideas of 'entertaining'," he met Sam's laughing reproof and whined, "Please tell me you said no?"

Unable to deny his claim about the likely outcome of the evening, she nonetheless gave him a dirty look for expecting her to be the one to say 'no' to Daniel, "I said I'd ask." Her eyes turned to Siler as she finished and he blinked, seeming to only now get *why* she'd hesitated.

Though he shook his head at her, his eyes were soft and the whisper of a smile crooked his lips, the expression just about shouting those little words he'd let slip. He gave Jack a dose of the same look and spoke reprovingly, "You and Whitey," he play-ducked Jack's miles-off teasing swipe, "Go and enjoy Lady Vala's hospitality. I haven't dragged Walter out to the pub in a while; he's probably forgotten the taste of *good* beer."

"..." She'd been about to hesitate at going out without him, but the sudden thought that *they* were interfering with *his* life made her close her mouth and blink, reassessing assumptions with a mental slap at herself.

Reminded that the man claimed not to know how relationships worked, Jack frowned, "Hey, Si'?" he waiting until Siler looked at him, "We don't mean to monopolize your *whole* life, you know. There's nothing wrong with wanting to do stuff on your own."

Siler looked down, staring at the game's board as he answered quietly, "Maybe I like being monopolized," he looked back up, hesitantly, "I like... our life." Not giving them a chance to comment, he shrugged, "But I probably *do* need to spend some time with the guys."


	5. Hit the road, Jack, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bike ride takes grim roads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> their bikes 

"How have I never seen your bike??"

Siler glanced up from checking the air-intake valve, frowning at the general's honest confusion. "Well.. I almost never ride it to work; as wiped out as I tend to be, it wouldn't be safe for me to ride home," he shrugged, moving on to the rear break that had felt wrong as he'd ridden over, "And as busy as we are, I rarely ride these days in any case."

He took his time babying the twitchy calliper of his rebuilt Fat Boy, not paying mind to Jack's continued surveillance.

"..But you would."

The quiet implied question made him shrug, frowning at the rust starting on a fuel pump clamp, "Yeah, I guess. Some. Not seeing the bike, I never think about it. But I hardly go to the house anymore; what would I do? Somehow remember to deliberately stop there on Friday -*tired*-, bring it over, and then ride it back to change to the truck on Sunday?" He shrugged, knowing the riding lull was just that. Sooner or later the bug would bite him again. Wouldn't be the first year that the insurance went to practical waste.

"Siler..." He looked back up, distracted by the suddenly decided tone in Jack's voice before the general was interrupted.

"There's room in the garage for another bike." Siler turned his head to look at Sam, standing behind him for who knew how long. "Or two."

"Two?"

Sam smiled gently at Jack's avid curiosity, watching their sergeant slowly deal with the idea of his babies moving to their house too. "Shall I tell him?"

Smiling a little, an edge of uncertainty in his eyes that was making fewer appearances with every passing week, Siler nodded, standing up and absently wiping his hands on his jeans.

She grinned at Jack, knowing he was going to get a kick out of this, "A 1950 Thunderbird."

"Seriously??"

Siler laughed a little at the eager response; he could almost see drool on the corner of Jack's lips! "Yeah, seriously. Sergeant out at Fort Bragg heard of some poor old machine, abandoned in a shed by the widow of a pilot who died in Desert Storm. Made a holiday of it and went and trailered it up here back in '98." He smiled at the woman who'd sidled up to cuddle with Jack, "And Sam helped me fix it up, when she had time."

Sam rolled her eyes at him, leaning back on Jack and beckoning Siler to come closer, "I just passed you tools and lent you company. When *you* had time."

Ignoring the correction, he stepped up to close the circle around her, his hands on Jack's hips. The chaste kiss he brushed on her forehead made her growl and grip his ears to bring his grinning lips to hers while Jack chuckled at their antics.

When Sam let him up, the general stared at him for a minute before asking teasingly, "How's the hangover?"

Wincing slightly at the reminder, he shrugged, abashed, "Getting better. I'm out of practise; and Walter's obviously been getting way too much."

"You OK riding?"

Since Sam elbowed the general in the gut for the mothering, Siler only answered with a mild "Yes." before staring at the bikes already parked in the driveway. "When did you get the Ninja?"

Sam looked fondly over at the red and black sport bike, "Last year. We got them at the same time," she jerked her chin at the Road King, already half-packed for their weekend escape, "We wanted to start taking more rides together, and having to be so careful with the Indian wasn't conducive to spontaneous travelling. So when we were shopping for a new bike for Jack," she smiled gently over her shoulder, "I figured I'd get something lower maintenance."

Looking at Sam instead of the bike, Siler teased, "Sexy piece."

She just grinned right back, "*I* certainly think so."

"Ahh, Siler?" Jack's voice was so hesitant that both Siler and Sam turned their heads to look at him curiously, "About last night," Siler's brows raised in curious worry when he saw Sam wince and avoid his glance, "We kinda ended up telling Vala," he nodded at Sam, standing between the two of them, and Siler's eyes widened as he realized Jack meant 'about the three of them', "Yeah. So. Don't be surprised if she accosts you at some point.."

Sam patted his back in sympathy when he moaned and dropped his forehead on hers. Siler did *not* particularly like the overpowering woman at the best of times. He could just imagine what she'd come up with *now* to torture him. Damn it. Dammit dammit damn it.

"Come on, it'll all seem better with the wind blowing by your ears."

Giving Sam a pitifully dubious look, Siler nonetheless straightened with a martyred sigh. Too bad there was no way to pretend she was attacking him with her pestering. He was sure no one would really *mind* if he defended himself with a Vulcan nerve pinch.. or the Tau'ri equivalent...

Oh well. He'd dealt with worse... he'd have to think to pick a particular occasion.. but there had to have been worse things. Had to.

Going through the bags still waiting to be strapped-in, they split the travelling gear and their baggage between the three bikes with minimal discussion, meshing their differing habits together without particular hiccoughs, and then, last checks done, headed into the house to get changed.

####

Hearing his partners chatting outside, Siler gave the house a last once-over as he hurried to the door, still shaking himself every few steps to settle into his riding boots. He should have changed at his place and taken the extra time to get them softened up, but he'd known he'd be crawling around the bike after the short test-ride over, and riding gear only made that harder.

"Chaps??"

Looking up from locking the door, he started to give Jack a rolled-eyed look for the snobbery, but then got a little sidetracked. Between Sam walking over and Jack standing there, both in full leathers, he was reminded of one reason why he liked jeans better. Leather did *not* forgive a mind that slid a little too often into the gutter.

Not that jeans were *that* much better. He cleared his throat, firmly reigning his reaction; and shifting his eyes away. They were leaving for a long weekend bike ride. *Now*.

No matter how many fantasies of stripping the two of them, not to mention of just *opening* those leathers and then worshipping them as they deserved, he was developing; that's what nightly stops were for...

####

The open road was heaven. Bright sun, only a little warm -for now at least- and Sam rode, free to feel the pressure of the wind on her skin, with nothing but her clothes to buffer it; the flow of the road under her wheels... No starship canning her in, no car to absorb away the world around her. A wall of soothingly smooth sound isolating her with her thoughts and the beauty of the panorama.

It was a quiet road, hardly any cars to break the view from this mountain. Like the small green valley below them right now. And the perfect road conditions left her attention free to roam. Including to the man riding in front of her. She'd somehow forgotten that he wore chaps; if she'd ever known. She had a feeling that the year they'd been together had been another bad one for rides; both of them scrambling to settle into their new and very hectic jobs. Both of them the frequent guests of the infirmary, the reasons for which didn't really encourage long bike rides even after being released.

She did remember hearing the story of where he'd gotten the Fat Boy though, one night when he was on talkative meds. Listening to the story of a chopper crash in the Gulf War that only he'd walked away from. Except he hadn't walked; thrown barely far enough on impact to avoid the deadly explosion, his left femur broken cleanly, his left tibia with a compound break that picked up a nasty infection before they cleared his system up. The full leg cast had made a mess of the rest of his body before it came off and, all in all, he'd spent six months out of both physical and mental commission. A friend who knew of his mechanic's skills and understood the rocky road to recovering from such injuries had kindly found him the wrecked bike early on.

Terminator 2 had just come out a year before and Siler had admitted to her that he'd liked the association, at the time. Not to mention the idea of owning the bike he couldn't have afforded new. So he'd spent the months of rehab crawling, literally and sometimes very slowly, around the destroyed Harley, rebuilding the engine and body one piece at a time. She suspected he'd probably kicked the machine a hell of a lot as he worked his way through the rough period. Probably even smashed it a few times himself. But he'd finally gotten his body back on its literal feet, his survivor's guilt buried far enough to move on; and a shiny bike ready to be ridden.

She had to get him to tell Jack that story, and maybe some of the other crap he'd overcome over the years.

Maybe realizing that Siler was as much a survivor as the two of them would help the tension that had crept between them since they'd started training him.

Leaning into a sharper turn and kicking up the power, all the while appreciatively watching Siler's handling ahead of her, she quietly worried about the man who was riding behind her.

They'd only managed a few sessions with Siler, had basically only freshened up the skills he already had, up to now. But Jack was already going quiet and stiff. And she could see Siler getting annoyed, aware that Jack wasn't using his full abilities on him.

She understood how hard it was. The first time she'd had to throw Siler to the pile of comforter on the floor that they were using as minimal padding, simulating some of the real-world conditions that were part of *this* training, she'd flinched, feeling the pain herself and questioning the path they'd just started on. This was *not* something you should be trying to teach someone you loved.

She was all too aware that Jack had avoided joining her on a mat since shortly after SG-1 was formed. He'd trained Daniel hesitantly, but he'd left Teal'c to polish *her* skills. Had watched them work out, no doubt catching every nuance of her abilities, but hadn't come close.

And now.. some moves were simply more easily taught if the student watched them enacted. And so Jack was not only having to teach -hurt- Siler, he was facing *her*; with moves that they'd both used to kill. After all these years, she'd accepted that his refusing to fight her wasn't an insult of her ability to defend herself or take him down; it was simply avoiding the unnecessary chance of being the one to hurt her.

Siler would take a while to reach that same conclusion, let along give it sympathy. If Jack could be made to accept their partner's strengths, maybe things would go smoother.

And maybe an anonymous hotel room would also help, avoid destroying the safe sanctuary of their home with combat where there should only be caring.

####

"For fuck's sake, Jack, I'm not *that* much of an incompetent!" Standing over his unaccountably fallen -AGAIN!- supposed-trainer, Siler's fists were clenching with his choked fury, "Hell, Teal'c says I box *better* than you!"

Then, staring at his old commander, realization kicked him in the gut and he deflated, anger suddenly replaced with cold numbness, "Christ... do you.. really think so little of me?" Shaking his head and not waiting for an answer, he turned and took the few steps to get out of the room, automatically grabbing his keys and wallet from besides the door and letting it swing behind him.

Trying to catch his breath from the unrestrained slam on the floor and the shock of the sudden argument that followed, Jack heard Siler's Harley roar to life and tear out of the empty motel lot before he even got himself into a sitting position.

And before Sam stepped out of the bathroom with a confused frown.

"Did I just hear Siler's bike??" When her eyes met his, he knew he must look as stunned as he felt and she swore under her breath, hurrying over to help him up, "What happened??"

Not quite sure himself, he shook his head gently, feeling a little rung from the wrestling. "He-" His voice choked as the completely uncharacteristic injured-little-boy expression that had appeared in their partner's eyes wouldn't leave his vision. The sick feeling of having taken something from a man he admired all to hell, never mind of having hurt the man he loved, made it hard to breathe.

"Jack!" Too familiar with the way his expression was closing up, Sam snarled, shaking him with a deliberately sharp grip on his sweat-slick bare shoulders, "Where. Is. *Siler*?"

She was about to shake him again when he took an obviously painful breath and stuttered huskily, letting the dawning grief show as he looked at her pleadingly, "He.. left. He-" Another breath and he stiffened in her grip, straightening, just like he'd always done after getting kicked in the balls by something, "Was pissed that I.. wasn't beating the shit out of him."

Wincing as her prediction came unfortunately true, Sam helped him up without another word, a little annoyed at Jack for not talking this out with Siler before it blew up. He had to have known this wouldn't be easy for him; letting Siler know that *before* he got pissed would have done a world of good. Unless he'd really believed he'd be able to treat Siler as a casual enough friend to do this. Could bury his feelings somehow.

"Then he went off on some crazy idea that I-"

She frowned at the lost look he sent her as he trailed off. Uho, now what?

Jack dropped to the edge of the bed, feeling weak and chilled, staring at the door that hadn't closed as Siler walked out with slumped shoulders and such a lost, confused expression... "That I don't.. That I.."

Torn between the worry for Siler that made her want to chase him down, and the worry for the man collapsing in front of her, Sam threw a helpless look at the door herself. She had to accept that Siler needed time to clear his mind, and that chasing him would take actual detective work at this point; Jack, on the other hand, needed her *now*.

Awkwardly sitting in his lap in her wet towel, she wrapped her arms around him gently, wary in case he was in one of his 'don't touch' moods. When, instead, his arms came up stiffly, she relaxed a little, laying her head on his shoulder in relief, "That you don't respect him?" She felt his head turn, no doubt looking at her in surprise for her brilliant deduction, and she smiled sadly, wishing she'd been wrong. "It's not exactly surprising, Jack. He *is* a soldier, and you've been pulling your punches like he's a child," she shook her head when he tried to interject, "I *know* why you're doing it. You have to know I understand," she stroked a hand up his bare shoulder to his jaw and cheek, softening her voice, the memory of the moment she'd shifted her weight and felt Siler go flying like so many enemies had in the past coming back to her with a shiver of pain, "I don't enjoy hurting him either, you know."

It took a minute, but she felt him nod slowly, his arms, his whole body, tightening around her.

She wanted to talk to him, wanted to explain why Siler had reacted the way he had. But he felt breakable somehow. Holding her stiffly, an edge of fear in his unsteady breath. *If* she'd needed any confirmation of how he felt about Siler, she wouldn't anymore. As much as she was beyond grateful that he was letting her hold him, that they were close enough these days.. she *knew* this side of Jack. They'd spent entirely too much time on the knife's edge of pain, desperation and breakup that first year. She knew his usually steady strength got uncertain and ragged-edged when his heart was breaking.

Losing Siler would cripple him.

Cripple them both.

An insidious voice tried to sneak in and follow the thought to its logical conclusion, but she shuddered away from it convulsively, unable and refusing to even consider the idea of being left standing between them as they walked away from each other.

She *had* to believe that she could keep that from happening; could keep the two men from ripping each other to pieces. Jack had learned to let her in in the end. She only hoped that Siler's love was strong enough to keep him from simply locking them back out. Having finally understood just how far away he'd kept her all those years ago, she knew how high the risk was that he'd push that distance back into existence. He was definitely as much a survivor as she and Jack; as defencive and instinctively scared of closeness.

She wondered what the chances were that *she* and Siler could continue to avoid clashing.

But right now, Jack and Siler were the ones with a problem. They were the ones who needed caring. Borrowing more trouble was a waste of time.

Getting chilled, she finally tugged Jack to lay down, letting him take off his runners but ignoring the sweat slicking him. Covering them with a blanket and holding him tightly, she knew both their ears were straining to hear a motorcycle coming back to them.

Instead, after almost an hour, they heard the rain start with a sudden, heavy, downpour, and wordlessly got up, getting dressed with a lot of little touches to each other as they moved around the small room, a silent vigil reflected in their stiff movements and constant glances toward the stubbornly empty parking lot.

Stepping through the door to stand under the short overhang, staring at the gravel leading out to the country road they'd been following, Sam was glad that the dilapidated old motel was empty except for them. The quiet of the falling sheets of rain was unbroken, shrouding their pain as she and Jack leaned on the wall, side by side. The air was warm enough, but this rain made the roads traitorous for a motorcycle, even one not driven by someone with his mind elsewhere.

"How did you know?"

Sam's head jerked slightly, no matter how quiet Jack's voice had been. He looked much calmer now, not so shell-shocked; a little more up to dealing with her words. Looking out at the road, she thought back to the days when she'd just been finding her place; with the hard, silent, Colonel O'Neill, with SG-1 and with the SGC. In the field in the middle of a war that only seemed to get more hopeless with every mission.

"We both admire you, you know." She wasn't looking at him, but she still felt the look he sent her, though he didn't say anything; could imagine the mixed feelings in it. "Your leadership, your fighting ability. Having you refuse to spar with me.. kind of implied that you didn't think I could take it. That I wasn't strong enough, skilled enough, to stand up to you and learn."

"Carter-"

Now she did turn to him, smiling into his worried expression and touching his shoulder reassuringly, "It's OK, Jack. I understood, eventually. And so will Siler. But we're going to have to *explain* to him." Figuring it out alone had taken far longer than they could expect from Siler. He didn't have near the obligation that she'd had to see it through.

"*If* he-"

"We. Will. Explain to him." Jack was still shaken if he seriously thought for one instant that Siler would actually leave them without a word like this. "How often have we told him it's OK to need time to himself? Come on Jack, he just needs to clear his head." That he'd been caught on the road without gear in the middle of a nasty rainstorm wasn't remotely that bad in the late august heat; Siler was a fine rider *and* a skilled mechanic. They were only worrying because the two men had fought and now everyone was on edge.

Nonetheless, Sam felt a weight lift from her shoulders when she heard the familiar roar in the distance. She took one last stab at peacekeeping by giving Jack a sharp look, "Do *not* start lecturing him." Mothering at this point would be like throwing a lit match in jet fuel; they'd both go up in flames.

The look he threw back had enough of a guilty edge that she had some hope that she'd made him conscious of the danger and he'd avoid it.

The only problem with understandably not lecturing, was that Jack had no idea what to say to the man shutting down his bike in the dirt parking lot that was turning into a mud wallow.

He was unaccountably set on following Sam's lead; to try to avoid more trouble, but also because he had not the first idea what to say or do himself. So when she stepped off the porch and walked to Siler where he still sat, watching them with an unreadable expression, Jack followed silently, feeling twitchy and on edge.

Siler watched them walk up, seeming not even to notice the pouring rain that had already soaked their shirts and pants. But then, SG-1 had marched through so much worse, hadn't they? Was it reasonable to expect them to think anything of his un-warlike skills?

The open road had unfocused his mind enough that he could momentarily zone out the feeling of hurt and see past it. Part of him accepted that he just wasn't a warrior, and that he couldn't expect Jack to treat him like one; any more than anyone would expect him to fill Sam's brilliant shoes with any great accomplishment.

The oh-so reasonable reasoning didn't miraculously make him feel fine about not having his lovers' admiration, but at least he knew it was his own foolishness causing the hurt.

He'd get over it. He knew that.

He *did*.

He just wasn't sure about this in-between time. He still wanted to hit the road and let the wind lick his wounds, but the valley they were in was ridiculously boring. He'd stared at the ramp back onto the mountain road for 5 minutes as the rain started, tempted; yearning to lean into the curves and feel the empty space near his knee, feel the high air like the purest freedom. Sharp rock and scraggly trees filling his vision...

The chill on his bare back as evening started to fall was stronger than his self-pity, though, and he'd grimaced, turning back.

He was cold and he was hungry and at the least their room had a warm shower. He wasn't sure he could be bothered to go out for food; then again, he wasn't sure if he was up to sleeping in the same room with them either. He almost flinched when Sam touched his arm with a worried expression. Seeing them had zoned him out again. Damned mess. Even if it was his own fault.

"Siler? Come inside."

Wordlessly getting off the bike, he met and immediately avoided Jack's eyes, keeping his expression blank with effort he didn't ever remember needing to use to control himself. Yeah, he understood the reasoning. But it still killed his pride right now, and that alone wasn't something he was used to. Never mind the shivering hurt he was trying to bury behind that. It wasn't Jack's *fault*, but looking at him was too much right now. It was hard enough to face Sam, momentarily taken back to wondering what he thought he was doing between the two of them.

Maybe he should grab his things and go. A day or two on his own felt like a good idea; time to get his head on straight, stop feeling as though he was inferior somehow. Time to miss them enough for that to replace the hurt that hit when he looked at them. To once again remember the good times.

Jack stiffened when Siler wouldn't meet his eyes. Watching him turn to follow Sam, the two of them walking away from his frozen self, he felt a stabbing chill flow down his back that had nothing to do with the rain. Oh fuck, no. No way! Adrenaline hit his bloodstream and his breathing cranked up, the fight or flight response overruling his plan to let Sam lead them out of the mess he'd helped create.

He could feel Siler sliding away from them -feel his hold on *both* of them slipping-, and the last time he'd felt this way he'd lost Sam for years. *That* had been out of his control, but this time he wasn't going to be the nice guy. There was *no* reason he shouldn't fight for what he wanted.

His hand flew out to grab Siler's forearm with a desperate grip, yelling and as afraid of what words were going to come flying out of his mouth as he was of the consequences of staying silent. "Dammit, Siler! I *never* said or implied you were ANYTHING but a damn good soldier!"

"Jack-" Sam's warning was drowned in an apropos crash of thunder, but the glare she was sending him was clear enough to almost make him calm himse-

"A soldier who's only good for staying behind your safe back."

But then Siler's defeated tone finished pissing Jack off all to hell and he shoved the other man's shoulders, palms half-sliding on frozen, water-slick skin, "I NEVER said that! Never *thought* that! *You* asked for training!"

It didn't escape his notice that Siler barely budged from the shove, even though *he* suddenly found himself sliding in the mud, ridiculously grateful to see the sergeant's eyes blaze with renewed fury as he returned the shove, absolutely no holds barred for once.

"I didn't ask to be treating like a fucking *child*, 'general'!" When Jack reached up to grab his shoulders, Siler's arm whipped up, elbow breaking the hold before Jack could even land it on his slippery, bare, skin. "All you had to do was say no if you didn't think I could handle it!" When Jack intercepted the next shove, Siler switched it to an uppercut that Jack's unsteady footing barely let him avoid, "There was no fucking reason to humour me like an imbecile!"

Watching Jack twist badly to get a headlock on Siler, Sam winced, knowing his back had just gone out. Emotionally, she wanted to kick both of them in the ass until they broke it up, but she made herself stay on the sidelines, simply watching that they stayed away from bikes, building or rocks. Resigned that they needed this.

Talking *should* have been better, but she knew that Jack, at least, was still pretty lousy at it, most of the time. And she was learning that Siler was almost as bad, now that his heart was engaged. If beating on each other was the only way they could communicate for now, she'd act as referee. And hope they never did this *without* a guardian; and that they learned saner coping mechanisms.

"I was NOT humouring you-" Jack's yell and hold were broken at the same time when Siler wriggled his arm loose enough to elbow Jack's diaphragm.

"The HELL you weren't! You put me on the mat all of TWICE. In-"

It was Siler's turn to cut off as he windmilled to keep from landing on his ass; though the rumbling sky would have drowned him anyway. And Sam groaned as Jack didn't follow the move through, letting Siler catch his footing. Didn't he understand he couldn't do this halfway??

Though she had to admit that Siler mad as hell -at Jack- loosened the knot that having him quiet and distant had put in her gut. If he was fighting, then he wasn't giving up on them; she couldn't deny that math.

"I don't happen to know what you can do, for crying out loud! If you've sparred with Teal'c then you sure as hell aren't just a behind the lines soldier. You expect me to see that with you lying on a ma-"

Jack ducked clumsily to avoid a flurry of roundhouse punches. It really *was* hard to place Siler; between the strength and endurance he had and the not-quite-there instincts. He'd be deadly if.. *once* he learned to actually try to kill rather than simply use the moves to work out.

"I EXPECTED you to actually *try* to make me black and blue and then TEACH me to avoid anyone else doing it!"

Sam winced at the flash of pain that crossed Jack's face, wondering if Siler was paying enough attention to notice it.

"Goddammit Siler! I don't happen to enjoy hurting you."

"*Enjoy*??" Sam's head tilted in sudden professional interest as Siler shifted to a threatening stance, actually triggering warning signals in her trained body, "How do you think *I* ENJOYED knowing you and Cass were in danger and I'd only be in your way if I tried to help!!!!! You could have both *died*!"

She could see that Jack was wary, but he didn't actually do anything to resist when Siler slid his hands to his jaw and kissed him, barely leashed violence in every line of the sergeant's body, the rain splashing past their tightly clashing lips for the half-minute that they held the furious kiss, both their mouths shifting and trying to grind together any and every way, tongues flashing between. As much as the call to sex made heat flash through her, Sam was all too aware that aggression was still present in Siler's posture. He was still angry. Even if he'd reached the point where he no longer wanted to get away from them, thank any god that actually existed. The anguish in his voice had been crystal clear; he didn't want to lose them any more than they, him. But he could still decide to take the simpler path. He had to know life in this family would never be easy, for a world of reasons that they couldn't change.

She was watching carefully enough to catch when his footing changed.

If Sam hadn't been taught the same move, she'd never have been able to follow as he suddenly pulled back, kicked, spun, went right through Jack's very real -this time- defences to drop him flat on his back with a painful-sounding splat. Yeah, Jaffa moves were handy. Even against Black ops major generals.

The geyser of mud that surrounded Jack for a second seemed to make Siler's fury flash away long enough for him to straighten back into a stance that Sam more readily identified as her sergeant and she slowly approached them as she felt the worst of the fight easing away with the perfectly executed shot. She touched Siler's shoulder carefully, wary in case he was still in fight mode, automatically respectful of any soldier coming off an adrenaline high.

She was still watching Siler for danger signs and sighed in relief, ignoring the storm getting worse around them as she saw the unwilling start of a smile on his lips when Jack complained breathlessly, "You know. *This* is one of the reasons I was sorta glad to get *out* of the field..."

She nodded her head toward the fallen man when Siler hesitated, an edge of hurt to his reluctance. She understood how hard it was to call off an argument just because Jack was feeling sorry for himself; but words like that were more than you got from a lot of people. Ignoring the general's continued low-voiced muttering, she brought her hand up to Siler's cheek, glad to feel the strength in the grip he took on her wrist; *holding* her, not pushing her away.

She made her voice loud enough to cover the rain and distant thunder, loud enough that Jack would hear and be quiet. "He *did* teach Daniel. But I watched him once when Daniel was having an off day, missing every grip and landing on the mat every single time. When Daniel finally limped out, he," she nodded at the man frowning at her from his cold bed of mud as though trying to remember, "Sat down on the bench." She stared at Siler, willing him to understand, "His hands were *shaking*, Siler. Training Daniel was a necessity for his own safety as well as ours, but there aren't a lot of ways to get trained properly that don't include the trainee hitting the mat a lot of times, and getting bruised as hell. And doing that to someone you.. care about... Just *hurts*."

And when he'd looked up and caught her watching him that day, she'd finally understood that he cared about *her*. And she'd been glad that she and Teal'c got on well enough and that he didn't mind being her sparring partner.

Now, she watched Siler absorb the same idea, knowing that he was smart enough, honest enough with himself -most of the time-, to understand that doing that to *him* would hurt Jack far worse than whooping the butt of the archaeologist who too often tweaked his temper *ever* had.

When he finally moved out from under her touch, Sam's eyes closed in relief to see him reach a helping hand to Jack.


	6. Hit the road, Jack, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ride continues

She didn't trust them enough to go back to their room and let them follow on their own; instead, she stood quietly and watched them stare at each other. Soaked to the skin and no doubt cold enough to shiver, two feet of space and a world of hurt, love -however unspoken-, and challenge standing between them. They weren't entirely past this yet.

And when Jack's leg whipped out and tried to sweep Siler's knees down, she swore under her breath. Yes, Siler avoided the move. And yes, she saw the lightening in his expression that was his old smile as he swung at Jack.

Watching the suddenly very real combat training tensely, ready to call a halt if she saw either of them about to be seriously injured, Sam didn't like their starting in on the fighting when they hadn't taken the time to heal the breech between them properly. But the point was to heal Siler, really, and if Jack could maintain this fighting spirit, she knew it would go far to making up for the last week of hesitations.

For almost ten minutes, she stood, getting frozen in the drizzling night, occasionally calling hold when one of them started a move that she could see the other wasn't ready for; would be actually injured by. Or when Siler almost dragged Jack to the edge between the mud and the gravel. Then Jack was the one to call a halt as they were about to grapple.

"That's not a good enough counter.. Carter."

Automatically responding to the order, albeit with a raised brow, Sam stepped forward. Rolling her neck and running her legs muscles through some very small warm-ups, she took a second to look the two panting men over. They were covered in mud from the toes of the runners they'd had on to train to the tops of their spiky-haired heads. Front, back, noses to zippers; they looked like mud monsters.

*Smiling* mud monsters.

She shook her head. As often as they'd both hit the ground, there was no question that they were sore. And yet they smiled. Men!

Getting into the better position to respond to Jack's attack, she nodded for Siler to move further back, "Just keep an eye on my legs."

"She means the way she's using them, not just standing there and drooling, sergeant."

She snickered and Siler rolled his eyes at the not-quite-natural tease as he found a safe spot to watch from as she countered the move and sent Jack sprawling. If there'd been a way to do it gently, she would have. As it was, she followed him down to stroke his cheek while he caught his breath and until he held his hand out to be helped up. They redid the demonstration twice before she went back to the sidelines, thoroughly splashed with mud, and with more rubbed off on her from touching Jack.

Siler tried for ten minutes to repeat the counter, but when she saw Jack shiver, she called a halt. "That's it. You're both worn out. Enough for today. We all need to get warm and fed before we end up sicker than dogs."

When they didn't argue, Sam rolled her eyes, not even bothering to wonder how sore that meant they were. They might be hers, and she might love them with her whole heart.. but they were still idiots.

####

They took turns at the hot shower and avoided facing the rain again by ordering Chinese in; and when they were done, no one bothered to deny how worn out, physically and mentally, they all were. They just killed the lights and got ready to crawl into bed.

Making sure she was the last to take her turn in the bathroom was the final chance Sam was giving them to settle their differences like adults. When she stepped out and found an empty space between them just her size, she literally growled, glaring at both of their impassive expressions, "Siler. Move over. Now." She was definitely not letting them get away with pretending to still be mad at each other. This was *not* going to be the time they went to bed angry.

She didn't say another word as they refused to snuggle, laying stiffly side by side. If they wanted to play silly buggers: fine. She knew the two of them; by morning they'd be wrapped around each other like puppies.

That she'd be wrapped around Siler's back just as tight had nothing to do with anything.

When she woke in the middle of the night, though, Siler was a few inches away from her.

He *was*, on the other hand, wrapped tight around Jack. It wasn't until she heard Jack mutter "Hell yes." that her brain bothered to wake up though. Wake and realize that Siler's muscles were stiff with tension. Laying as relaxed as she could to not attract notice, trying to control her increasingly quick breathing, Sam felt the bed shift near her bent knees as she lay on her side. Siler caught his breath and Jack choked a groan into almost silence, and she knew. A quick glance at the bed table on Jack's side showed a haphazardly laying tube of KY that she'd last seen innocently standing with the bottle of pain meds they'd brought in expectation of training.

The surge of arousal she felt only got stronger as she listened to their very quiet union, watching Siler's bruised and abraded back flex and shiver as they swallowed moans and whimpers, every sound reassuring her. She could just see the back of Jack's head as Siler's snapped forward suddenly and she shivered as they tried to keep their cries soft, making herself close her eyes and re-relaxing the muscles that had tensed as she got aroused.

It was going to take a while for her to get back to sleep, but they were together; in the *real* sense of the word now. That was all that mattered to her.

She listened happily as they whispered back and forth, however hesitant and stilted the tone, as they settled back down, and Jack must have turned around at some point because she could hear the soft, slurpy sound of sleepy kisses and tender chuckles. She was glad to be behind Siler's back; she could smile as mistily as she wanted and not make either of them feel self-conscious for dropping the strong, silent and *of course not* tender romantic facades that they both took such pride in cultivating.

It was strange to realize that they mixed military camaraderie and tenderness as much with each other as they did with her. She'd never really stopped to notice that Jack still sometimes treated her like one of the boys; though seeing it now made it easier to understand how they'd so quickly found a way to act with each other within these new feelings. They'd already had practise with the double vision, and feelings meant more than gender.

When they quieted, she gave in to her need for them and snuggled up to Siler, feeling the hand Jack had on his lower back brush her crotch and opening her eyes to meet the general's over Siler's shoulder as both men tensed slightly.

Siler didn't turn his head fully, but it tilted slightly so that his hair brushed her nose; casual greeting and affection. Automatic, relaxed inclusion in their intimacy. She gave Jack a soft smile, glad to see him relax, forehead back against Siler's as his fingers lazily teased the short hairs of her pussy. She sighed contentedly and nuzzled Siler's nape, holding him tightly as she let sleep over-power arousal.

####

When Sam opened her eyes again, the room had that dim brightness of sun though heavy, cheap drapes. And Siler was on his side, watching her with that very faint smile of his. Sam smiled back, tender and relieved after yesterday's pain, "Good morning."

"Morning."

More memories of the previous evening started to crowd her mind and Sam reached over to cup his cheek, the warmth of his skin and the sharp prickle of his beard intensely reassuring, "We were worried." She hadn't really meant to whisper that, but she remembered too well the fear that had hit as she held Jack.

When he looked down, lips twisting a little, Sam cuddled her body closer, needing to know that he was *here*.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

She was shaking her head and raising Siler's chin before he even finished the husky words, "No. You had every right to clear your head, Siler. Trust me, it's how *I* react, and how Jack reacts too. I wasn't trying to make you feel guilty," he was watching her so seriously that Sam touched a soft kiss to both corners of his lips, glad to feel them twitch into a smile, "I just wanted you to know we- care about you." He didn't seem to notice the stutter on the word 'care' and Sam wondered how much longer the real word was going to stay out of their mouths. Especially if life was going to keep worrying them like it had the last little while.

The soft wonder in his eyes at even *that* word made her ache, too aware of how alone he'd been for so long, and she wasn't surprised that rather than try to speak, he tugged her closer and slowly teased her lips into parting for his.

Jack continued to snore at Siler's back as they kissed softly, holding each other tight, both burying the fear and distance that had appeared between them in the wake of the fight.

####

When they stopped for gas later that day, Siler decided he didn't like the state of a clamp on his bike and insisted on changing it before they moved on. Which, with Sam browsing the tourist shop attached to the gas station, left Jack to his own thoughts.

Sitting sideways on his bike and staring into the trees around them, he felt out of sync. Siler had been friendly enough this morning, and they'd all taken the riding order of the day before without comment.

But something was still off. Not that he had a right to be surprised about it.

When they'd settled into the motel last night, they'd all been throwing leers, only half-teasing, at each other; promises of leather-loving in the air. But this morning, they'd been quiet. Calm, collected. No teasing, no leering. No playing.

No, he couldn't expect them to be. Not really. But it still nagged at him.

And so did that last sight of Siler before he walked out of their room; it still sent pain lancing through him and fear gibbering through the back of his mind. He was so fucking frustrated at himself for not being able to get past his feelings for the man and do what was necessary to train him. Siler *did* need the training; Jack understood *that* perfectly. Helplessness was the worst hell.

The worst.

Turning to stare at the man crouched besides his old Harley, Jack really wished he could go back and undo this mess. Would it really have been so hard for him to admit he was screwing up?? That he was just too out of practise at wiping his opponent's face at need to manage it even partially on someone he loved. Even though objectively, he knew that having Siler trained would, in the end, make him feel at least a little better the next time he was in danger.

Growling at the unchangeability of the past, he gave in to the need for contact, standing up slowly and waiting for his lower back to accept the change and adjust. Mentally snarling at the stupid move that had thrown it out, he covered the distance to Siler and crouched down himself, ignoring the way his knees popped and ached, unforgiving after the long ride.

Just besides and behind the sergeant, he was out of his way.. but he could -*would*, if things had been different- trail fingers on his back or shoulder. Feeling half-crippled from holding himself away, he cleared his throat and mumbled inanely instead, "When did you start playing with bikes?"

Siler gave him a guarded -damn, that *hurt*- look before replying, "When I was 12. Did something for someone and they gave me a busted Suzuki 750; fixed it up."

Jack whistled, impressed in spite of himself, "Must have been *some*.. thing." *And* a smart 12 year old; not that *that* surprised him.

It was beyond a stupid joke, but Siler's lips still quirked, and Jack barely held back a sigh of relief. If Siler still laughed at his dumb jokes, then he still had a chance to fix this.

Staying crouched and watching silently for a while, Jack finally tried the one thing he'd realized he'd forgotten last night.

"I'm sorry."

Siler froze and Jack saw his lashes drop as he stared at his profile, grumbling, "I should have told you why I was hesitating to fight back. Should have admitted it to *myself*, for that matter." Sam was right; he *was* an idiot.

Siler finally nodded; just one quick head-tilt before going back to finishing off the job and putting his road kit away. It wasn't much, and Jack was still wondering where he stood when Siler.. *stood* up.

Looking up at him, Jack was never more grateful to be offered a hand. Although the view wasn't bad... But then, once he got his knees straightened, Siler pulled him into a lightening-quick hug with a muttered "It's OK. We're OK."

Almost shocked by the public affection, Jack took a second to process the realization that he'd been forgiven. Trying to unobtrusively catch his breath and watching Siler repack his bike, he tested the waters hesitantly, "So... Want to tackle Sam straight to bed when we stop tonight?"

The sudden bright smile that that got him was a memory he made a point to polish and frame and promise himself never to forget. The man needed to smile more.

####

Stepping off the old wooden stairs of the shop, Sam looked up at the bright sun and slid her sunglasses on with a happy smile. No matter how hot it got, she still preferred to ride in the sun.

Looking back down and automatically tracking her boys, she watched Siler stand up at the edge of the gravel lot, trailing her eyes up his even-taller-than-usual-in-boots very attractive body, and offer Jack a hand. She wasn't sure what had gotten into the general to mistreat his knees into such a position, let alone while wearing his leathers. Though she could guess; Jack always *was* touchy-feely, and the fight with Siler no doubt made him downright *itch* for contact. If proximity was the facsimile available, she knew he'd take it at any cost.

The sudden hug made her eyes widen in surprise as she stopped. Siler was *not* in the habit of touching people; most earnestly not in public. And the few times the two men had been out together, Sam hadn't missed the careful distance they kept, or the neutral way they looked at each other. That quick, 'manly' -almost back-slapping-, hug would be a dead give-away of intimacy to anyone who knew the very reserved engineer. That he did it anyway made her want to go over there and jump on him.

Walking over casually, ogling both of their tall, leather-clad bodies as they stood chatting, the idea kept looking better and better. And when they both turned to watch her, she added a little sway to her hips and grinned; cheered, as usual, by the appreciative attention from her men.

Siler actually grunted and fell back a step when she threw herself on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and covering his lips with hers as she giggled, hearing Jack's laughter behind her.

The erstwhile sergeant caught his balance and pulled his head back, arms around her automatically and smiling through his confusion, "What-"

"You're cute."

The gawk that that produced from their sergeant only made Jack laugh harder, slapping Siler's back and sneaking a caress into his hair, "She's right about *that* too."

####

Jack's brilliant notion had spent entirely too much of the afternoon's ride at the forefront of Siler's mind, and when he heard the door close behind Sam, he sent the general a wink, dropped the bags he was carrying and stepped back to their lady where she was just starting to undo her jacket. It was one thing to deliberately sit on a bike and rev it for a bit of kinky sex, but spending the afternoon on a purring machine with his cock half-hard was playing hell with his self-control.

Sam's head lifted curiously when he stepped up to her, a moment of combative wariness vanishing when she met his eyes -he really needed to pick up that instinct, didn't he?-. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with every bit of the starving hunger making him shiver where he stood. When she slid her hands into his hair and returned the hunger wholeheartedly, he reached down to cover her ass and ground her against him, groaning at the much-needed contact.

Breaking off the kiss enough to chuckle, Sam teased, rocking herself against him, "My sergeant a little horny?"

Before Siler could respond, Jack stepped up behind her, pulling her M9 out of its waist holster and into his jacket pocket before reaching between her and Siler to undo her belt and pants, just *happening* to run his knuckles along Siler's zipper, making him jerk and moan. Jack chuckled, leaning in to breathe in Sam's hair, "I'd say our sergeant is *very* horny, Samantha," he blew gently in her ear, his hands sliding into her skin-tight leathers as he snuggled her shuddering back so that their jackets slid against each other, "What about you, my colonel? Tempted to ride the boy in chaps?"

Seeing as the 'boy' had enough of the teasing and insistently slid his tongue into her mouth to stroke and tangle with hers, Sam didn't have an answer other than to try to undo his jacket with shaky fingers as the pure hunger attacking her sent heat skidding through her pelvis.

By the time she got a grip and pulled hard enough to undo all the snaps, Jack's fingers were dipping gently into her and then slicking over her clit, the movements slow and tight as her pants and Siler's grinding closeness restricted him. The resulting slow clench of need distracted her so that she didn't notice Siler undoing his zipper before pulling back and crouching until she felt her pants tugged down past her hips.

Leaning back on Jack with a moan, Sam could feel his freed erection rubbing on her now bare ass as Siler's tongue slid between her lips, tight from her pants still so high, and stroked her clit with the stiffened tip. Her fingers gripped Jack's skull as his palms slid under her opened jacket and up to her breasts as he rasped in her ear, "You are so beautiful, Samantha. Even more so with his head between your legs." He held her close as she moaned, "Sexy and sleek in all that smooth leather. Want to run my hands all over you," he bit her earlobe, growling lowly, "Both of you. Stroke and squeeze and listen to you moan."

Trying to keep enough calm not to completely embarrass himself, Siler looked up from his crouch, unconsciously dropping a hand to squeeze his cock for relief and restraint, both. The very thin white shirt Sam wore had ridden up well past her belly button and he could see her abs flexing as he and Jack had their fun. Could see Jack's long tanned fingers flexing on her breasts, so obvious against the white cotton and black leather. Could see the needy pleasure tensing her expression and Jack's dark eyes glittering at him as he whispered in her ear.

The taste of her arousal slicking his tongue was finally too much and he knew he didn't have to wait any longer, reaching down to clumsily tug off her half-boots before pulling her skin-tight leather pants down her smooth legs. Raising one of her knees over his shoulder for a last suckle, he finally rose with a growl, palms wrapping around her butt-cheeks and pulling her up and onto him without waiting another second.

"Siler!"

He didn't need the breathless cry to spur him to move, but Jack catching his jaw and fitting their mouths together to lick the taste of Sam off his lips gave her the time to wrap her legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper and tighter. Her arms were tight around his neck, holding her up as she rocked gently on him, her lips vibrating with moans under his ear and sending him into deep shudders that finally gave him the strength to pull away from Jack and take the shambly step back needed to land on the bed with half-naked Sam astride his still fully-clad body.

Grabbing her hips with a choked cry, he tried to catch his control too, half aware of Jack watching them from besides the bed and of Sam watching him with lust fully waked in her eyes. Thrusting his hips up sharply, Siler licked his lips, traces of her taste still hiding in the short whiskers of his upper lip and and making his breath catch and his hips jerk tight against her.

"Lift her shirt."

They both looked to the side distractedly at the order and Siler moaned sharply when he saw Jack, one hand stroking himself lazily, but the other holding his cellphone open and the camera lens aimed at the two of them, his glases allowed out for the occasion. Reaching up without thinking about it to raise Sam's shirt the last few inches for her breasts to rest naked in the light, glowing pale against black leather, he gave up and grabbed Sam's hips, grinding her down onto him as she gasped, head jerking back around to him from her open-mouthed stare at the man who *did* have a habit of playing the innocent.

He muttered raggedly to the woman starting to more than willingly fuck him out of his mind, "Sorry. 'll make it up to you." No way could he hold on long enough to bring her off, not with the driving tension he could already feel low in his spine. Between his mind and his body, way too much tension in him today.

Grinning at him, Sam took his hands forcefully off her hips and held them to the bed at his side, bending just enough to reach the surface and then speeding the ride of her hips as he panted, eyes wide and fixed on the slopes of her breasts, swaying inches away even as his head tilted back, his whole body tensing up, lost in the fire she was building with every fucking tight, *hot* glide on his cock. He couldn't feel her skin on him anywhere else, jeans covered in leather on his legs, jean shirt and leather jacket still on his back; his skin breaking out in sweat and prickly with the heat. Later. Later they'd all roll round naked and get their temporary fill of skin...

And then the tension finally blew its top and he cried out raggedly, bucking under the expert grip of Sam's thighs, unable to escape the fire she kept tightly clamped on him as his body pulsed over and over with orgasm.

He was laying utterly boneless, mind slowly drifting back awake, his head drooped sideways; and now he could feel feather-light touches on his rough skin. Sam's soft lips along his neck, ear, cheek. Eyelids and nose. Gentle as her fingers tracking down the buttons of his shirt, undoing them and bringing cool air to his overheated skin.

He made his heavy lids lift when she disappeared, reality coming back to him with the faintest thud and a kink in his back from the Beretta. He tracked Jack and wasn't surprised to find him backing Sam into the door, their lips locked in passion. Siler dragged himself onto his elbows as Sam wrapped her long, naked legs around the black-leather-clad general, her head banging back on the door as she cried out "Jack!" Siler grinned, unable to stop the burst of pride; she was close, no matter how out of it he'd been...

Watching as Jack's lips -and teeth, no doubt- closed on her long, pale, arched neck, Siler glanced around quickly, looking for that phone. Finding it thrown haphazardly near his knees, he sat up with a wince and grabbed it, eyes on his partners as Jack's hips rocked against Sam, the door at her back solid enough not to make a sound. At least not one louder than their breathing and Sam's rising cries.

Glancing down quickly, Siler was glad to see the picture app was still up and all he had to do was shift his viewing to be through the display, as unsatisfying as that was, and take his shots.

He really did prefer reality, but he was inclined to encourage Jack in pretty much anything, and if he had a hankering for pictures.. Siler was the last man who'd say no.

It was just that he'd rather *watch* his lovers live than squint tightly at a tiny screen and take single frames of them. Damn, he wanted to go over and *touch* them... But at least he could listen, and the night was young. And he owed Sam some pleasure.

Standing up shakily, he stepped closer, learning the new camera and trying to dust off old instincts to figure out what shots would translate onto a picture the feelings he knew he'd get if only he could look up and watch. He *did* look up, his nose flaring as a shiver of arousal flashed down his spine when Jack turned his head and looked at him, eyes black and wide on the phone even as he gasped with obviously cranked up arousal. Sam objected to her lover's inattention and pulled Jack's lips back to hers with a growl, much to Siler's amusement, his eyes dropping back to the phone display. God Sam was so damn perfect to take pictures of; never more than wild with ecstasy.

Oh yeah, he definitely was going to hear that scream again before he went to sleep; and this time, Sam would come right in his mouth -damned failed self-control-.

He could barely hold back from grabbing them and getting in his shorted quota of touch when Jack followed her into orgasm with a shout choked on her neck.

He *did* move when the general's knees collapsed though, catching Jack's hips just in time to slow their impact with the floor. The phone got jabbed into one hip but Jack still muttered a panting "Thanks, Si'." as Sam giggled breathlessly, holding on to the general's neck and lucky to still have her jacket to protect her back.

Shaking his head in sympathy, Siler kept one hand stroking through Jack's hair as he hurriedly reset the camera for just a few more shots of them coming down from the high, making faint plans to come up with encoding for any of these pictures. Speaking of safety hazards in their lives...

####

Laying naked on the king-size bed -and hadn't it been a laugh to listen to Jack snark at the night auditor that yes, he wanted one king room. Yes, three people, you have a problem with that?-, Sam watched Siler massage Jack's lower back. The general's smirking strut after getting their room from the gawking clerk had to have hurt like hell with the shape his back had been in after last night. She should have remembered he needed it looked at *then*.

Tonight's door games had been far too much for the old fool. Though Siler's grumbles had been a touch more diplomatic than her thoughts when he'd started stripping their injured man and ordered him to bed. Jack had been in enough pain to actually obey and Siler had tracked down the massage oil and pain killers while she threw all their clothes out of the way.

Taking the time to fish her weapon back out of Jack's pocket, she'd put it, his holster and Siler's aged M1951 next to the bed, along with their cells. She was almost used to seeing the two Air Force M9s side by side -it wasn't the first time she and Jack had felt the need to stay armed even on holiday- but she was still not over the idea of Siler in danger. Let along the feeling that that pistol hadn't come from a pawn shop. He'd never been delirious enough to go into his younger years, but the complete lack of any sign or word of a family, or of any other marks of childhood, had struck her, even all those years ago. That she'd never seen that Beretta, never known of it, seemed an odd message considering how fondly he handled it.

Giving up the grim thought, she joined her men on the bed, cuddling up to Jack's side and kissing the ball of his shoulder as he lay with his head on his crossed wrists, and reaching over to run a hand slowly up and down Siler's flank where he was kneeling at Jack's waist. Warm skin and slow, tender touch. Being apart, Cassie's danger and now the stress from training Siler; they all deserved some closeness. *She* needed to be close to them just as much as Jack ever did; for that matter, Siler was developing the habit of dropping casual touches whenever he was near either of them and in private.

Looking at the relaxed, smooth, skilled, strokes he was currently using on Jack's lower back, Sam asked idly, "How *is* Cindi these days?"

She smirked a little at the red that appeared on Siler's cheekbones as he stared at her accusingly. He knew she knew he'd had plenty of light 'friends' over the years. And she knew he'd needed a therapist more than once. No way would he have resisted seducing the friendly blonde that she and the rest of SG-1 had also needed the services of.

"She was reassigned to Buckley."

Sam's brows lifted in surprise and she could see Siler giving the general the same look.

Jack opened his eyes, hearing an odd note to the silence and aware that Siler's hands had stilled. Faced with Sam's very.. 'curious' expression, he blinked, "What?? I remember signing for the fruit basket."

Sam's expression cleared and he felt Siler start stroking again even as he snorted, commenting mildly, "You and those fruit baskets."

Unable to turn or otherwise give him the evil eye, Jack settled for snarking, "Hey! They worke- ow!"

Halting his hands, Siler asked worriedly, looking at the area under his touch in concern, "What?"

Jack grumbled back, shifting his head on his crossed arms, "Little bruised; you kicked me there. Go easy."

"..Sorry." Siler stroked softly over the area, trying to ignore the pulse of discomfort at the idea of hurting Jack, before going back to his massage.

Once he'd finished making his way down Jack's legs, Siler finally dropped down to the bed. On Sam's other side. Which made her frown faintly and open her mouth.

Shaking his head, Siler laid a finger across her lips, "I'm not avoiding Jack. We happen to like snuggling you."

Responding to Jack's chuckle behind her as he did indeed cuddle up, Sam relaxed, accepting that they'd really made up and that she should stop worrying about them. Turning to lay on her back so she could look at them both, she remembered the pictures Jack -*and* Siler- had just taken; and that made other pictures come to mind. Flicking her eyes between them, she asked curiously, "Did you two really look at naked pictures of me on your first date?"

She had to smirk at the matching evil looks they responded with, but Siler finally muttered a gruff "Second."

Giggling at the admission of both the word and.. "And?"

Jack just stared right back into her challenge, "And what?"

Giving up on the Black Ops general, Sam turned to Siler, deciding he was more likely to break, and sidled up to his wary self to kiss his lips, his nose, his cheek, trailing her way up his jaw to his ear, "Did you play 'Who can last longer'?"

His breath caught very satisfyingly before he rasped "..No."

Intrigued by the little grin she saw on his lips, Sam glanced at her now abashed general, who obviously realized she was going to find out, before tilting her head at Siler with batted lashes to indicate she was listening. And wouldn't drop the subject.

"He sucked me off."

The image that those husky words produced sent heat rolling through Sam and she had to clear her throat to respond, turning to Jack with affection, knowing he'd tackled a lot of conditioning to do that. No doubt telling himself it was for *her*, "No wonder you knew you had to hold him."

Jack snorted agreement, remembering the nights she was talking about with a soft, fond grin he split between her and Siler, only losing it with a gasp when Sam leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Did you also figure out he loves to be in charge?"

####

He didn't know how much longer he could do this. He'd stopped counting the times he'd sent Siler sprawling, and every time he heard the thump on the carpeted floor and the sergeant's grunt as he lost his breath, Jack's gut tightened and he had to clench his jaw to keep his eyes from fooling him; keep his mind from changing what he saw into some hellish memory of death and pain.

He watched Siler get up -so much more slowly that he had when they started-, firmly ignoring the scratches riddling the man's back from carpet friction, Jack settled himself into position again and felt half-distant from the combat, and half, far, far too close. Desperate to reach out and hold Siler. Stop this nonsense and just promise to always be there to protect him. It was a bad day when the pain in his body was a *welcome* distraction..

"Enough. My turn."

Sam watched Jack blink, only slowly coming fully back to himself. She softened her voice, trying not to look at the way his hands trembled as he straightened, "You come play spotter."

She didn't move until he took the first step to the sidelines, but then she glanced at Siler, catching a glimpse of the regret he hurried to hide from their general. She was glad that he finally understood how hard this was for them, too.

Taking the jacket off of her gym clothes, she took the time to stretch fully as Siler drank some water and took a breather. He was getting a lot better at fighting all-out, meaning they were all pretty sore and bruised. He needed to get the knack for feeling a threat coming though. They could still all too easily sneak under his guard, and his instincts didn't automatically kick in.

In point of fact, she smoothly shifted from stretching to kicking out and knew long before she connected with his hip that he hadn't seen it in time. Wincing at the choked yelp he gave, she didn't say anything; he knew the counter to that, and going to him as she would to Jack was counter to teaching him to react correctly. He had to get up fast and he knew they were going to have to repeat it a few times now. Trying to program it into his body.

It wasn't much easier being on the sidelines watching than it was to actually be the one hitting. He still wanted to step in and protect Siler. Hell, he wanted to protect *Carter*.. and she would thank him even less.

He finally found that making himself be objective and judging every shift as though they were cadets helped a little. Especially when he caught Sam doing a move entirely incorrectly! "Hey! Hold. What the hell was *that*, Carter??"

OK, yes, he knew that had been a little too drill-sergeant-ish.

But still! "That move was so badly done, colonel, that I'm surprised you didn't fall over all on your own," he jerked his head to the sidelines, coming to stand in front of a grinning Siler, giving Sam an almost insulted look. *How* could she have known him all those years and still do such a thing? "Your turn to pay attention, I think."

He took his time and ran Siler through every step of the grab, pointing out where Sam had gone wrong and idly wondering how she could possibly have.. mangled..

He almost screwed up the counter when his brain decided to realize he'd been hand-led at the same time as Siler attacked.

Aching from the badly done return, he turned to glare at the woman watching them entirely innocently. "Carter?"

"Umm?"

".." What the hell was he supposed to say? Why did you trick me? He already knew. Why are you mothering? He knew that too; *and* was the last person in this room allowed to complain about it. He settled for whining; after all, she needed some playfulness too... "Was that really *necessary*?"

Sam grinned, the light of *cheerful* revenge in his eyes more than worth being lectured like a rookie. "Yes, general, I think it was." Siler's grin as he recognized their antics was just icing on the chocolate cake. And hopefully both of them were going to *stay* cheerful when she laid down the law and dictated they all needed a couple days off. This wasn't actually boot camp and they all needed some uninterrupted cuddling time, in her unbiased opinion. Different accommodations and a day strolling in town like carefree tourists, or better yet, like lovers on a getaway, was what they needed.

####

"Stretch 'em, general."

When Jack hesitantly lifted his arms above his head, body laid out in offering, Siler grinned, crawling on his knees until his half-stiff cock was waving inches from Jack's mouth and then leaning over to run the handcuffs through a rung of the hotel headboard.

He was staring down as he clicked the second cuff closed on Jack's wrist and he saw the general's eyes jerk up to his from his stare at Siler's crotch, pupils suddenly widening, even as Siler felt arousal stab through his belly.

Reaching down to slide his fingers thought the short white hair of his lover, he smiled, a tenderness softening his posture that was at odds with the scenario. He really *did* believe that Jack was fine with this as he'd claimed when he pulled the handcuffs out of his bag and offered them to Siler. But it couldn't be easy to dismiss his hellish history and trust Siler this completely, most especially not after the painful disagreement they'd had on the first day of this trip. No matter how they'd all made up and grabbed their intimacy back from the cliff, there were still remnants of the tension present.

But this was their fourth and last night, and the hotel they'd picked was roomy and comfortable, luxury compared to the shacky motels they'd used up till now. Down to a hot tub to make sore bodies forget their worries and feel more than up to a little make-up kink. As long as minds and hearts were up to it too. Sam was right, again; they did need some time just as lovers.

"This OK?"

Jack's eyes cleared at the word, tension that had crept in now easing from his shoulders. His gaze dropped back to Siler's crotch and he quirked a forced grin; Siler winced a bit, *well* aware that it was entirely obvious that *he* was looking forward to this.

"Why don't you come a little bit closer and I can show you just how OK I am?"

Laughing softly at the line, Siler crawled backward instead, hearing Sam chuckle off to the side. When he leaned over, Jack automatically tilted his head for a kiss, but Siler nosed him aside and bit softly at the underside of his jaw. Why biting Jack appealed so much when he rarely felt anything like even *that* violence toward Sam... Just didn't matter when he could listen to that groan of pleasure from his lover.

####

He could feel the muscles of Jack's belly and thighs tightening, hear his breath getting short and jerky, and on the next upward slide, he kept going and pulled back, licking his lips and watching Jack's cock rebound up against his tensed stomach. Thick and red and wet from saliva and pre-cum and entirely too arousing.

"Siler!"

Jack's head had jerked up as he shouted and Siler smirked at him, not remotely intimidated. Breathing a little too deeply himself and feeling the pounding of his pulse making a layer of sweat break out over his skin. Sliding his palm down a hairy leg, he shook his head, "Forget it, Jack. My turn to torture." *They* enjoyed driving *him* completely crazy often enough!

He could hear Sam breathing heavily in her chair, a moan in her throat, and licked at the side of Jack's knee, trailing lower, wondering vaguely if they'd really let him finish this without taking control. He took a last bite at an all-too-elegant ankle and grinned at the growl he got in payment, turning to look at Sam, lounging naked in the armchair he'd ordered her to, watching her stroking herself slowly. She was staring at them longingly, shuddering, and Siler winked, reminding her roughly, "Not until I say, colonel." He grinned at the role reversal, knowing he was being too easily, and dangerously, amused. But it did feel good. Having them willing to let him run roughshod over ranks really did ease the self-inflicted sting of thinking he wasn't good enough.

She raised a challenging brow at him and slid one hand up to cup a breast, thumbing the distended peak slowly, not trying to stifle her moan.

The crack of Jack's laughter was accompanied by his toe gently prodding Siler's unconsciously parted lips and he huffed at himself for falling for the trick, sending Sam a mock-glare as he tried to slow his breathing, "*My* turn. No making the sergeant break tonight."

"Told you she was trouble."

Pouting prettily at Jack's taut, Sam lifted her thigh right over the arm of the chair and traced the now exposed lips of her vulva.

Satisfied with the resumption of Jack's visual torture and his absorption with it, Siler made himself turn away, anticipating the moment he wouldn't; would hold and touch her, kiss her until neither of them could breathe. Giving his attention back to his primary victim tonight, he sucked the impudent toe into his mouth, feeling Jack's leg tense sharply as he gasped.

Sam's giggle only intensified the ache running through Siler and he slowly trailed his lips and fingers back up until he could nibble at a hip that had made a reappearance after a month of boot camp; and would no doubt get even trimmer with the combat training that had them all sporting bruises and abrasions. Blowing a teasing stream of air over the inside of the general's thigh, he refused to again touch the one place where he *knew* Jack was throbbing and aching. Just as much as *he* was.

Instead, he leisurely -and carefully- licked and sucked his way up sensitive, soft-skinned -bruised- side of ribs that still had some padding, the shivering of Jack's not so tough hide under his lips an addicting power. The twisting of that strong body as the man tried to choke back moans; all drawing him to want this. Want the knowledge that Jack was going utterly crazy from, and for, *his* touch. That Siler controlled when he would be released; how much pleasure he would be made to stand.

The arms stretched up to the headboard, on the other hand, were hard. A few weeks of serious workout, and the adrenaline-fed need to reach for *something* that was riding Jack, had the veins standing out on those biceps, the triceps flexing as the tender skin over them was treated to wet lips and a teasingly tracing tongue. The sharp clink of metal on luckily *strong* wood drew Siler's attention, but only for an instant. The choked whimper Jack made as he shuddered was something he simply couldn't resist. He sent one hot look at Sam, panting and tensing, and rasped, "*Not* until *I* say, Sam." She glared at him with evil promise, but she did stop, pulling back from the edge. Yeah, he'd willingly pay any price for this.

Nodding approval, he looked back down and laid himself full length on top of the man panting on the bed, their cocks brushing until he shifted back and slotted below Jack's crotch, his breath catching as the head of his penis rubbed on Jack's balls, the general's cock pressing back on Siler's belly as he leaned down and kissed Jack hard.

The growling and jerking of the body under his, the quasi-violence in the bites Jack was taking at his lip and neck drove him crazy somehow and he had to pull back to catch his breath and control his shaking. Jack was twisting under him, bucking against him without any of his usual control as he glared a fierce challenge into Siler's eyes, and it was all he could do to clench his muscles and not move, needing the friction on his aching erection just as much. Needing-

He forced himself up to his knees, turning his head to the woman keeping her hands clenched in her chair and staring fire at them, her hips jerking even without any exterior contact. "Sam," the bark in his tone made her sit up in surprise, "Get over here."

A few stiff steps and she was besides him on the bed, giving him a playfully challenging look. Keeping himself steady on his knees below Jack's ribs, he cupped her jaw, trying to be gentle but aware that his touch was a little harsh. Leaning in and kissing her hard and deep but pulling back quickly to take her hips, lift her and help her shift to her knees, carefully, besides Jack's ears; the general's stretched arms in the way now, but none of them quite willing to end the game.

Bending forward to grip Jack's bound hands with hers, she cried out breathlessly as he closed his lips on her clitoris with a growl that Siler could feel the shiver of against the inside of his thighs as he crept up to close the distance until his cock brushed the cheeks of Sam's ass. Resisting the temptation to shorten this, as well as the offer inherent in her gasp and small hip-tilt, he shifted to slide himself up the valley between until he could cuddle up, his abs touching her lower back.

His turn to whimper a little at the friction, his fingers spasming on Sam's hips, unable to stop from rubbing himself a little, dropping his lips to her shoulder. His teeth were closed on her skin before he caught himself and let go, laving the area with stiff tenderness, feeling her shudder convulsively against him. Wishing he could see them, he shifted one hand to her belly and slid upward, lips trailing to her ear, "Come rest up against me; want to watch." His palm cupped a breast as she whimpered, slowly rising to lay her head back against him. "Want to touch you," he moaned, teeth aching to close on her earlobe, looking down her front and watching Jack slide his tongue between her lips, expression lost in quasi-bliss.

Sam reached around and dug her fingers into his thighs, the breathy little cries she was making next to his ear sending shivers dancing over his skin. He had to hold at least one hip or she'd buck and hurt Jack, which left him only one hand to stroke at the soft skin of her stomach and fondle her so beautiful, swollen breasts. With his eyes meeting Jack's, his teeth touched the joint to her neck, the tension to bite almost unstoppable, almost distracting him from the way Sam was stiffening, grinding on Jack's mouth, all too happy to feel the bite of teeth...

Growling harshly, both of his hands went to her hips and lifted her up.

"*Fuck*, Siler!"

Siler bared his teeth in the imitation of a smile at the shaking yell, "Not today, Jack." Even though he felt a deeper pulse of need snake through his gut at the thought.

"Siler!" Sam's control was almost gone and she twisted in his grip, snarling, the halted wrestling moves -that he easily recognized now- as dangerous for Jack as him.

"*Easy* Sam! Just let me-" He swung one of his legs back until his knees were together besides Jack, the momentum and his steely grip bringing her with him, whether she could decipher his damn tension-lisped words or not.

Tugging her backwards until her back was flush against him, her legs spread around his, he didn't have to say a word and she reached between her legs and guided him into herself, her body clutching at him with a sob.

Panting, he pulled her tight onto him, clenching his teeth to stay in control as rippling, tight, fire tried to pull him over the edge. He shifted his hold to the front of her hips, stretching his middle fingers to her clit and taking a deep breath before lifting her up slightly and then back down, fingers stroking. "Arms around my neck, colonel." He just about cried out as he felt her internal shiver at his harsh words.

His eyes burning into Jack's over her shoulder, the general watching them as he twisted in his bonds, a gravelly moan in his throat, Siler kept up the small, sharp movements, jaw hard as steel in restraint, feeling the woman in his arms tensing desperately as he thrust.

Then every muscle in her contracted as her breath caught and he pulled her down hard, unprepared when she turned her head and bit his neck as she convulsed, a definite scream chocked on his skin, leaving him moaning in agony at resisting the friction on his cock, at desperately resisting the tug of orgasm as Sam thrashed in his arms, riding out her pleasure.

Jack was beyond words, watching them and shivering, panting, a trail of pre-cum glistening past his needily bucking hip.

Finally feeling Sam crash against him, Siler lifted her up as gently as he could, kissing her ear with tight control and whispering so only she would hear. When she nodded and moved aside, slow and shaky, Jack watched her with the promise of a hard fuck in his eyes.

Those eyes locked back on him when Siler moved, stiff with control. They flashed dark threats when the sergeant came to crouch around his shoulders. But he parted his teeth when Siler leaned over him, hands closing with Jack's; palm to palm. The bite of the general's punishing nails didn't stop him slowly thrusting his wet cock past Jack's lips, a strangled shout escaping him as the man greedily sucked him in, dizzily aware that he had the same response to the taste of Sam on Jack.

He had to control himself, *had* to- He pulled slightly back with a sob as Jack moaned, knowing Sam had taken advantage of the general's distraction and taken *him*. His blowjob got stuttery and broken as Jack shook and moaned, and that gave Siler enough of a chance that he still had his control; if not his sanity, a constant low moan in his throat reflecting the strength he had to apply to keep from jerking his hips. Then Jack's head snapped back with a drawn-out cry of 'Fuuuuuck!' and Siler watched his face twist and shatter with pleasure, the blood rushing in his ears so hard he barely heard Sam whimpering behind him.

He was shaking, too close and too tight to think or move or- Jack finally opened his eyes, drowsy with satisfaction. He blinked once before smiling gently and leaning his head forward. This time Siler closed his eyes; he had no intention of controlling the need to come anymore, but with Jack's hands tied he had to keep his hips-

Or not.

Sam's hands gripped him hard and the bite of slightly-too-long nails only made the pleasure deeper. His throat felt raw when he cried out, giving in completely as he greedily focused on the feel of heat and wet and suction and friction, a tongue flicking and distracting, delaying the inevitable. The pinprick pain of nails digging in, the relief of at long last letting himself go, letting every muscle thrust and tighten as it wanted, the control that Sam enforced providing a sneaking mental pleasure of its own.

Fire was finally streaking out of his balls and right through his cock when he felt teeth bite down hard on his shoulder, the instant feeling of possession throwing him right past overload.

He might have screamed, or just shouted or even choked as too much tension released at once.

He was flopped back, leaning on Sam, her breasts pressing a message of femininity and softness into his back, her hands soothing across his belly, nails teasing over his chest, as she left soft kisses along the top of his shoulder. His knees were stretched too sharply and starting to send stabbing pain through his thighs, and he had to be putting too much weight on Jack's upper chest, even as Jack licked gently at his softened cock, affection and caring a better heaven than he'd looked for, for most of his life.

His eyes opened lazily, the off-throwing, unfamiliar painting of an English garden making him shake his head with a twist of his lips. Jack's chuckle drew his eyes down and made him straighten with a wince, quickly reaching for the key on the bedside table.

"Siler?"

He shrugged off Jack's concern, far too many endorphins in his system to care about a little pain, "Knees stiff." He might not get in the same agony that tended to hit Jack, but he should have shifted position earlier.

Nonetheless, he didn't complain when Jack reached his newly freed hands down and wrapped them on the sore joints, moving gently, injecting heat to soothe as Siler smiled gratefully, stroking his fingers though short, sweaty, hair even as he looked besides him where Sam had come to stand. Looking thoroughly satisfied and happy, she leaned her head on his shoulder, a hand reaching down to twine with his in the spiky white strands.


	7. Old friends, like bookends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chat with Daniel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eheh, this pic always represents their relationship for me.. :D  


Watching Jack stepping around his kitchen, Daniel frowned in checked worry, "So Cassie's OK, then?"

Jack flashed him a guarded look before he shrugged and reached for two mugs, "As well as can be expected. Hard enough on the emotions to be pregnant, but having to deal with that damn shit..."

Daniel took the coffee he was offered and nodded, "Yeah. Is.." he stopped and took a sip, rethinking the statement as Jack remained standing, staring out the window over the sink with a glum, pissed-at-the-world expression that Daniel was all too familiar with. Though it had gotten at least a little rarer in the last few years. "I assume you have security on her?"

Jack nodded, "Yeah. And on her boyfriend. As discreet security as I could make happen; trying not to force her to constantly be reminded of things."

"I should visit her. If I'd been on the planet, I'd have helped.."

Jack nodded again, turning to lean back on the counter and face Daniel, though he still looked grim, "Yeah, I know. It all.. worked out."

Daniel frowned, "That.. didn't sound convincing, Jack. I thought you said everything was settled?"

He watched as his old friend grimaced, staring down into his mug as though it held the meaning of life, "The bastards are out of circulation and Cass is as safe as I can make her."

The lack of anything else forthcoming and the increase in glumness and jaw tension made Daniel change tack, hoping to find access to the problem, "What happened to your back?" Come to think of it.. that looked like a hell of a bruise on his arm too.. and another above his... abs? Daniel slid his eyes back to his friend's downcast face, mentally trying to remember if he'd just imagined that the general had put on some weight.

No. No, Daniel definitely remembered Jack taking his shirt off after spilling beer on it one afternoon. And he'd definitely been a little padded; not to mention that he'd grumbled about how he couldn't seem to get back in shape.

Jack's head shot up now at the question, eyes blinking in surprise as he rotated a shoulder, probably just in automatic response to the reminder. Then the grimness popped back and he stared back into his cup, his voice getting quiet, "Siler," he looked up, meeting Daniel's eyes with a painful tension around his, "The whole thing with Cass.. was a reminder of the danger of.. being a part of our family. And Siler was never really trained to be a field op, let along to defend himself in the kind of situation-" Daniel watched his friend flinch and go back to staring blankly, his voice falling to a snarl, "Where he'd be fighting for his damned life. Or someone else's."

"..So you're training him." Daniel remembered well enough what had happened when he'd been the one thrown unprepared into the middle of military operations. If Siler's training had really been that different, then he imagined his friends would be at least as protective of the sergeant. And as reluctantly determined to train him up to their standards.

Confirming Daniel's memory of how little he enjoyed such training, Jack's shoulders hunched at the simple words, "Yeah. We're training him."

Still, there was no way that he'd gotten the stomach back in just a couple weeks of combat-training Siler; though being reminded of the other man made Daniel suspect *he* probably had something to do with it. One way or the other. And he wasn't going to risk making Jack self-conscious with the mood he was already in by asking specifically. Some other day he could sneak a tease in at least.

On the other hand, *Siler* was one topic he'd been itching to find a way into ever since he and Teal'c had met the flustered sergeant at their friends' front door. "So," he watched Jack's eyes fly up and sharpen at his over-casual tone, "You and Siler." Yup, snapping posture, closing expression. He'd known this wasn't going to be easy.

"What *about* me and Siler?"

Daniel rolled his eyes at the silently threatening words, "Come on, Jack, I asked you the same thing when you and Sam got together," he blinked to himself, grinning a bit at his buddy, "Come to think of it, I think you responded the same way *then*." Not that he'd have changed the question even if he'd remembered that. There was only so far he was willing to humour Jack's sensibilities. Friends were *supposed* to weasel private details out of each other.

The acknowledgement that the two relationships were equal, not to mention the memory of just how crazy-happy he'd been feeling the last time Daniel had dropped that question, finally made Jack relax a bit. He almost smiled as he managed to set aside the maudlin mood that had ambushed him when Sam and Siler had vanished to go to work and he'd found himself alone after a week of their constant company; even with the stress and pain that had been a part of their trip, he couldn't help but relish any time with them. And hate its end; let along the free time to think.

He shrugged now at the question, not surprised it had come up and knowing he'd have to give the man who'd been his friend for so long *something*. "What do you want me to say, Danny-boy?"

Grinning at the unspoken offer to actually *talk*, Daniel tried to think of the least nosey thing he might get an answer to. "How about.. When or where exactly... I mean, I knew that you and Sam loved each other for years, so your finally getting together was hardly surprising. But I never though you.." he trailed off, feeling for a way to explain himself without getting Jack's military back up.

Flipping a hand up in 'stop' position, Jack grimaced, "Don't finish that thought, please Spacemonkey?"

"No, seriously, Jack. If.. I don't know," Daniel's hands waved, his cup cooling precariously at his elbow, "If.. say Paul Davis had 'come out'," he shook his head, ignoring Jack covering his eyes, "I'd barely have blinked. Hell," Daniel snorted, remembering the transparent mannerisms, "I've half expected the man to make a pass at me since we first met!" this time Jack outright groaned, "But of all people, *you*..." Daniel wound down there; he'd really meant not to bring that up. Really. Had even lectured Vala not to say anything to either men after she'd been let in on the secret.

"I *can't* believe you just said.. *any* of that, Daniel."

The mumble was almost incomprehensible since Jack was still covering his eyes. But he hadn't snarled. Or stalked out of the room. Maybe he'd known he'd be asked eventually. "I'm just.. *curious*, Jack. You're my oldest friend and.. your life just changed pretty drastically and.. you have my support, you know that, but.. I'm *curious*."

After a minute, during which Daniel remembered his cup and took a sip, waiting to see where the conversation was going to go, Jack finally sighed, straightening and looking at Daniel like a prisoner facing the executioner.

"I don't suppose giving you when and where will *end* this conversation?"

"It.." Daniel knew he'd still be curious, but he also knew that pushing rarely got him far with Jack, "It *can*. If you insist." There was always another day.

Jack nodded, not bothering for a stronger promise, "Atlantis."

Daniel blinked, cup motionless as he quickly went through everything he knew about the city of the Ancients, "You and Siler were never on Atlantis."

The retired general nodded again, "We were. In San Francisco. Sam took a contingent from the SGC down and drafted me along."

He hadn't thought about the city in its *new* home.. and that also answered the when then. "OK..." A little odd that either Sam *or* Jack... or **Siler**, had somehow ended up.. well, however they'd ended up to have started this, while essentially on duty, but he wasn't sure he wanted details about *that*. There were other things, though, that Jack *might* volunteer with a little push, "I know you loved Sam; did you..." This time Daniel stopped himself from making a point that Jack was obviously not comfortable with yet.

Jack didn't refuse to answer, but he looked away, staring through the doorway to the living room, lost in thought. It wasn't a simple question and Daniel wasn't surprised Jack needed a minute to think it through. For that matter, his very private friend could choose to interpret it in a totally different way and Daniel wouldn't make a fuss.

Which was why he was surprised at the quiet words he finally got. "I always liked him. He's a good man and a good soldier. Someone I trusted with.. a great deal. Someone I spent entirely too many long days and nights chatting with in the infirmary."

Daniel nodded to each statement, agreeing wholeheartedly. "I know." He'd spent more time watching the nurses fall over themselves around the man than chatting to him, but he didn't think the sergeant would thank him for reminding his lover of the past.

Rather than answer the implied question, Jack shrugged, giving Daniel a stilted grin, "The rest.. just happened. I wasn't paying attention, and suddenly..." he shrugged again, a tinge of red starting to darken his cheeks as Daniel watched, delighted for his friend. Both his friends. And the SGC's accident-prone, Jack of all trades, master sergeant.

"Suddenly you loved him." This time it wasn't a question. Jack's grimness when he'd spoken of danger to the man, the almost unconscious intimacy between them, even with Daniel and Teal'c present, said it louder than words.

"..Yeah."

Though he went back to staring into his drink, Daniel watched the bit of a smile ghost across the retired general's face and realized he was going to need to get to know the sergeant better. Even aside from the simple math that he was obviously going to be a part of any time Daniel spent with his friends, there was the consideration that with their positions, he suspected there would come a time that they'd have a use for a go-between that


End file.
